
Class i 

Book 



| ; ' 



COEffilGHT DEPOSIT. 



By the Same Author. 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 

£t Biographical £ftctrfj. 

Illustrated with Six Heliotype Engravings. 
1 voL Small quarto. $1.50. 

Mr. Lowell's Parentage and Family, Birthplace and Surround- 
ings, Editorial Work, Early Verses, The Anti-Slavery Move- 
ment, Hosea Biglow, Sir Launfal, Domestic Life, First and 
Second Marriages, Satires, Atlantic Monthly, Yankee Humor, 
Reconstruction, Commemoration Ode, Prose Essays, Subtility 
in Poetry, Personal Traits, etc. 

" This sketch of Lowell is a very pleasant one, and full of 
interesting things." — Boston Advertiser. 

" He is conversant with his subject in the successive degrees of 
personal familiarity, friendly regard, and admiring sympathy." — 
Literary World. 

_ " A very charming biographical sketch. ... A very instruc- 
tive and delightful introduction to writings which cannot be too 
well or too largely known. He has written no panegyric of his 
hero, but a book which even David Masson might admire." — 
Quebec Chronicle. 



JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO. 



m 




^ ^wx, V/. o/)^V 




vno 



/ 






THE LIFE 



OF 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



WITH CRITICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES 
OF HIS WRITINGS 



BY 



FRANCIS H. UNDERWOOD 



EUustratctj 




BOSTON 

B. B. RUSSELL, 57 CORNHILL 

1882 



Copyright, 1882, 
By Francis H. Underwood. 



All rights reserved. 






University Press: 
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 



PREFACE. 



As it is known that the family of the de- 
ceased poet intend to publish a full account 
of his life, including- his correspondence, 
which must be extensive and valuable, it is 
proper that a brief statement should be made 
as to the origin and status of this Biographi- 
cal Sketch. 

While Mr. Longfellow was in his usual 
health, somewhat more than a year ago, he 
kindly undertook the task of looking over 
my Sketch of James Russell Lowell. I had 
asked him to do this friendly service for me, 
and for Mr. Lowell, who could not be con- 
veniently consulted. I have still the proof- 
sheets with annotations in his well-known 
hand. He praised the work ; and, with the 
simple frankness of Priscilla in his Puri- 



vi PREFACE. 

tan romance, he intimated that he would be 
pleased to have one written of himself in a 
similar spirit. Up to that time I had not in- 
tended to undertake such a labor ; his works 
were so many, and his fame so widely dif- 
fused, that I felt a sincere diffidence in ap- 
proaching the subject. But, encouraged by 
his approbation, I began collecting materials, 
and making such studies as I could of his 
separate works. Being engaged in business 
to which I have been, and still am, bound to 
devote the most of my time, the work pro- 
ceeded slowly. I did not imagine that the end 
was near, and supposed I should still have 
time to carry out my plans with care. Only 
a fortnight before his death I spent an even- 
ing in his library, and submitted to him my 
notes and data; I intended to go again 
within a few days, but soon learned that he 
was seriously ill. His death soon followed. 

Having spent nearly all my spare time for 
a year in preparation, it appeared proper to 
complete the work as soon as it could be 



PREFACE. vii 

done. Under these circumstances there has 
been less time to give completeness and 
finish than I could have desired. 

It should be added, that I resided in Cam- 
bridge from 1854 to 1*859, and enjoyed the 
friendship and often the invaluable converse 
of Longfellow and Lowell ; and, as I was the 
projector of the Atlantic Monthly, and had 
been the means of gathering the eminent 
literary men who made it renowned, I was 
for the first two years a constant attendant 
at the monthly dinners hereinafter men- 
tioned, and so came to have a personal knowl- 
edge of the great writers of our State and 
time. And I have felt that it was something 
very like a duty for me to put on paper, be- 
fore age should overtake me, my early im- 
pressions of that remarkable group of men, 
now sadly broken. 

The Sketch of Lowell has been published ; 
but it will be enlarged as soon as opportunity 
offers. The Sketch of Longfellow is here- 
with presented. Similar sketches of Whit- 



vin PREFACE. 

tier, Holmes, and Emerson will follow as 
speedily as circumstances allow. 

Thanks are due to many persons for valu- 
able aid. I must mention the services of 
Peter Thacher, Esq., William Winter, the 
poet, Charles Lanman, author and artist, H. 
W. Bryant, Librarian of the Maine Histori- 
cal Society, Professor Charles Eliot Norton, 
Wm. P. P. Longfellow, Esq., nephew of the 
poet ; and I must especially thank the fam- 
ily of the poet for the loan of Mr. Lanman's 
picture and the historic inkstands, and for 
furnishing the manuscript lines of which a 
fac-simile has been made. 

FRANCIS H. UNDERWOOD. 

Boston, April 27, 1882. 



CONTEXTS. 



Page 

Introductory 1 

Tiie Longfellow Family 12 

Portland 33 

Boyhood and Youth 43 

Wooing tin- Muses 53 

A Young Professor GO 

Studies Ahroad 66 

The Harvard Professor 75 

Success 88 

Antislavery Poems 95 

His Second Marriage 102 

Poets and Poetry of Europe Ill 

The Belfry of Bruges 113 

k Criticism 117 

Evangeline 137 

Kavanagh 148 

Agassiz 149 



X CONTENTS. 

Page 

The Seaside and the Fireside 157 

The Golden Legend 163 

Hiawatha 166 

The Atlantic Monthly 182 

The Courtship of Miles Standish 188 

Nahant 193 

A Tragedy 199 

The Wayside Inn 202 

Hawthorne 210 

Flower-de-Luce 213 

Christus, a Mystery 215 

The Hanging op the Crane 220 

Morituri Salutamus 222 

Keramos . . 225 

Poems of Places 227 

A Book of Sonnets 229 

An Estimate 231 

Translation of Dante 243 

Ultima Thule 246 

Seventy-fifth Birthday 249 

Personal Traits 252 

Last Hours " 268 



CONTEXTS. 



XI 



APPENDIX. 

I. From the Proceedings of the Maine Histor- 
ical Society on the Occasion of Longfel- 
low's Seventy-fifth Birthday . . 

II. Genealogies 

III. Longfellow. By William Winter . . 

IV. Correspondence with Charles Lanman 
V. Mr. Longfellow's Early Poems . . . 

VI. A Bibliography of Longfellow . . . 



Page 

273 
307 
311 

314 
319 
344 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Portrait of Longfellow (on Steel) . . . Frontispiece 

The House built by Wm. Longfellow in Byfield 
(formerly part of Newbury), in 1678. From 
a Picture painted by Charles Lanman, in the Pos- 
session of Mr. Longfellow's Family 15 

The Stephenson House in Portland, in which 
the Poet was Born. From a Photograph . . 25 

The Wadsworth-Longfellow House in Port- 
land. From a Photograph 35 

The House of General Wadsworth in Hiram. 
From a Photograph 45 

The Vassall-Craigie-Longfellow House in Cam- 
bridge. From a Picture by H. J. Fenn, in the 
Possession of James R. Osgood, Esq 79 



xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

View of the Longfellow House from the Lawn, 
on the North Side. From a Photograph . . 107 

The Old Clock on the Stairs 116 

Small Pictures of two Famous Inkstands. 

Coleridge's 258 

Crabbe's 259 

A Corner of Longfellow's Study . . . . . 261 

Facsimile of Longfellow's Handwriting. The 
Original kindly furnished by his Family . . . . 263 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 

& 33fojjrap?)2 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 



■^x£#4oo- 



A fruitful literary life which has extended 
over fifty years is necessarily an object of re- 
spectful interest and admiration. The labors 
of most writers fall within the limits of a 
generation, — a third of a century; their cre- 
ative power seldom outlasts the ideas and 
fashions among which they have grown up. 
In fifty years there is time for a poet to have 
seen, in his early days the decline of an old 
school, in his manhood the rise and triumph of 
a new one, and in his age the signs of change 
and the dim forms of coming ideals in art. 

Longfellow's first poems were written al- 
most sixty years ago. Robert Southey was 
then the English Laureate, who as a poet is 



2 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

now wholly neglected and almost forgotten. 
Keats, Shelley, and Byron had only recently 
passed away; Scott, Wordsworth, Moore, 
Coleridge, Campbell, Hood, Landor, and 
Leigh Hunt were still living ; Tennyson and 
BroAvning were soon to appear; and these, 
with their immediate predecessors, were to 
make the nineteenth century hardly less illus- 
trious than the Elizabethan age. 

It had been settled that rhymed argument 
or eloquence, such as prevailed in the eigh- 
teenth century, however compact, witty, and 
musical, is not necessarily poetry. Pope 
might still be called a poet, but his germi- 
nating influence had ceased. The formal 
heroics were obsolete, except that, like other 
departing fashions, they lingered in provin- 
cial districts. Poetry in England was occu- 
pied with noble themes, and had become 
once more thought etherealized. 

The attention of the British is rarely 
turned upon their colonies, except as fields 
for trade, and as places for bettering the for- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 3 

tunes of younger sons. Their calm conceit 
of superiority lias long been remarked ; and 
one may be sure that the writers of the 
United States are in no danger of being 
spoiled by English flattery. 

Fifty years ago the British had heard of 
Dr. Franklin ; they had read the Declaration 
of Independence (at least their statesmen 
had) ; Washington Irving with his Sketch 
Book had made a pleasant ripple in London 
society; theologians had heard of Jonathan 
Edwards ; and that was about all. Some 
few persons, curious in the literary annals 
of an obscure people, may have read the 
" Thanatopsis '' in the North American Re- 
view ; but the notion of the existence of 
American literature, especially of American 
poetry, would have caused a derisive roar 
from Aberdeen to Portsmouth. 1 

And the literature of the United States 

1 If the reader desires to see specimens of mingled ignorance 
and prejudice, he will find them in the articles upon American 
literature in the Encyclopaedia Britannica. 



4 HENRY WADSWOETH LONGFELLOW. 

fifty years ago, it must be confessed, exist- 
ed largely in promise. Irving was favora- 
bly known on both shores of the Atlantic. 
Cooper had written "The Spy," and was 
famous. Joseph Rodman Drake's " Culprit 
Fay," a pleasing performance for a youth, 
was thought to be a happy portent. Fitz- 
Greene Halleck, Robert C. Sands, and Gil- 
lian C. Verplanck were in the flush of youth 
and hope. Bryant had made a noble begin- 
ning*, and the elevated thought and sure 
movement of his verse prognosticated higher 
renown. Emerson, the most original of Eng- 
lish-speaking men in this century, was preach- 
ing" at the North End of Boston. So far as the 
public knew, there was no hint of his poetry 
or of the great Essays yet. Prescott was 
reading and meditating for his brilliant histo- 
ries. Bancroft was then a politician, and had 
not entered upon his great work. Dr. Palfrey 
was discoursing upon the Old Testament at 
the Theological School of Cambridge. Wil- 
lis, born in the same year with Longfellow, 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. b 

was trying his 'prentice hand in verse, and 
was to become for the next twenty years the 
most popular, as he was the most versatile, 
of the light-armed corps of writers. Dana, 
after a few tantalizing successes, became 

"Involved in a paulo-post-future of song." 

Sprague had recited his fine Shakespeare 
and Centennial Odes, and settled back in- 
to his comfortable and honorable banker's 
chair. John Pierpont had admirers ; so had 
John Neal and Mrs. Sigourney. Edgar A. 
Poe was just becoming known ; his first 
verses were published in 1829. The literary 
world, and Longfellow in particular, were to 
hear much of him in the following twenty 
years. Hawthorne, who was Longfellow's 
college classmate, published his first volume 
later, in 1837, and was truly, as he him- 
self said, "the obscurest man of letters in 
America." 

' On the whole, we may say that the works 
which have a reasonable chance to live, 



6 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

written previous to Longfellow's beginning, 
are very few, and they are not in the de- 
partment of poetry? The loyalty and zeal 
of Dr. Griswold, and the exhaustive ~ labors 
of the brothers Duyckinck, have preserved 
for us a mass of details which are copious 
materials for literary history, but of which 
very little can be considered as belonging 
to our national literature. For oblivion has 
already settled down upon the greater part 
of the names and the works held in honor 
fifty years ago ; and to look back upon 
Griswold's " Poets and Poetry of America" 
is like taking a distant view of Mount Au- 
burn Cemetery by moonlight. 

The public taste half a century ago was 
unformed. The public taste is far from in- 
fallible now ; but the elders know that there 
has been a wide-spread change. It is seen 
in many apparently trivial things. The pop- 
ular poetry fifty years ago was matched by 
the cheap and gaudy colored lithographs, 
and by the plaster images of Italian pedlers, 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 7 

both of which forms of "art" were as per- 
vasive as the colors of the national flag. 
There was no literary standard. The aver- 
age editor thought more of the " scream of 
the American eagle " than of any canon of 
taste. There were no canons of taste or 
laws of criticism. Any sentiment in a mu- 
sical flow of words, with sparkles of high- 
colored adjectives, was a poem. And as for 
poets capable of such verses, in the slang 
of the frontiers " the woods were full of 
them." 

Few editors and fewer readers were liber- 
ally educated. In the public schools the 
reading was largely from eighteenth-century 
authors, while the notions of rhetoric and 
criticism were derived from Blair or Lord 
Kaimes, pedants who never knew the idioms 
of English. So, between old-fashioned pro- 
fessors who taught what was gone by, and 
the fluent, self-confident apostles of jingle and 
glitter (whose field was in milliners' maga- 
zines and red-morocco annuals), the student, 



8 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

if there were one, had no secure middle 
ground. 

It would require the space of a volume 
to show the influences which have been at 
work since 1830 to build up our literature, 
or rather to lay a foundation for it, and to 
connect it with our social and political life. 
The period is that of our greatest expan- 
sion in population, wealth, and power, of 
the greatest improvements in the arts, of the 
greatest diffusion of intelligence, and the one 
in which the bulk of American literature has 
been produced. All benign influences have 
acted in concert. To a public like that of 
1830 the best productions of our day would 
have been enigmatical or ridiculous. The 
education of that public, so far as it has 
gone, has been an enormous work, for which 
every moral as well as material force has 
been employed. Schoolmasters, engineers, 
preachers, reformers, philosophers, inventors, 
printers, — these with the editors and au- 
thors have been slowly raising the level of 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 9 

thought and achievement, — building, as it 
were, under a whole people a foundation 
like that of Persepolis, on which the rising 
structure of our letters and art is to stand. 
Every new era brings new powers and ad- 
vantages ; but it is hardly possible that there 
will ever be a time in which the vast work 
of our century will be eclipsed. 

It must be considered a good fortune for 
Longfellow to have been born at a period 
when national prosperity was fairly begun, to 
have grown with his country's growth, to 
have reached maturity when its literature 
was for the first time reckoned as a power, 
and to have attained to serene old age at 
a time when the whole reunited republic 
regarded him with honor and pride. The 
public life of no other American author 
has covered such a span ; the period of no 
other has so many fortunate incidents; the 
fame of no other is so universal among all 
classes of men. ' 

The chief honors in American letters thus 



10 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

far have been gained by poets. In history, 
science, and criticism, with a few brilliant 
exceptions, we have produced little to be 
compared with the works of Englishmen. 
The influences of great universities and the 
cultivation and inherited tastes of the lead- 
ing classes (such as exist in England) are 
almost wholly wanting in America. The 
power of such a literary centre as London 
is almost solar. There is no such gravita- 
tion in our western hemisphere. At the first 
thought it might appear that poets, whose 
genius is inborn, do not need the stimu- 
lus of learned society, and are not aided 
by breathing a literary atmosphere. But 
though the poet's original impulse comes 
from the Creator, and that which is vital in 
his verse is due to no teaching, yet his taste, 
his skill and mastery, are largely affected 
by his surroundings, and, unless he is a man 
of self-centred power, by the public sym- 
pathy, or the want of it. 

Poets of the first order are so rare that they 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 11 

cannot be reckoned in any Buckle's system of 
averages. England has produced two, Shake- 
speare and Milton. Poets of the second order, 
such as Chaucer, Spenser, Byron, Coleridge, 
Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth, and Dryden, are 
more evenly distributed among the genera- 
tions. Leaving Robert Browning out of the 
account (for the present), we find among liv- 
ing English poets only one pre-eminent, the 
Laureate Tennyson. It is probably no more 
than just to assign his rank as being the first 
since Milton. At the same time there are 
living in America Emerson, Lowell, Holmes, 
and Whittier; and these, with Longfellow 
and Bryant, lately deceased, appear to edu- 
cated Americans superior severally in genius 
and in accomplishment to any living Eng- 
lish poet, save Tennyson. 1 

1 This is a plain statement of an indubitable truth ; and in 
view of the invincible ignorance of British reviewers and cyclo- 
pedists it appears necessary for an American writer once in a 
while to publish concisely his articles of belief. We are Eng- 
lish in blood, not aliens, and English literature and thought 
are ours. " If you prick us, do we not bleed? — if you tickle 
us, do we not laugh ?" 



12 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
THE LONGFELLOW FAMILY. 

The old town of Newbury, in the north- 
eastern part of Massachusetts, has an inter- 
esting history. It was the birthplace of an 
unusual number of intellectual and eminent 
men. So many poets, jurists, preachers, 
mathematicians and college professors have 
sprung from the primitive stock, that the list 
of "freemen" embraces the names of the 
best known families in the Commonwealth. 1 
Among them are Cushing, Dana, Emerson, 
Felton, Grould, Greenleaf, Hale, Jackson, 
Lunt, Longfellow, Lowell, Noyes, Pierce, 
Sewall, Story, Whipple, Whittier, and Woods. 
Each generation appears also to have had a 
full share of the intellectual training which 
was possible at the time. No less than 308 
graduates of Harvard College (from 1642 to 
1845) were born in Newbury. Considering 
the early poverty, the trials attending the 

1 See Joshua Coffin's unique and excellent History of New- 
bury. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 13 

settlement of a new country, and the hostil- 
ities with Indians, French, and the mother 
country, this is a remarkable record. 

William Longfellow, who was born in 
1651, and probably in Hosforth, near Leeds, 
in Yorkshire, came to this country in 1676, 
settled in Newbury, and, in November, 1678, 
married Ann Sewall, sister of the well-known 
Chief Justice. The commonly accepted ac- 
count is that he came from Hampshire ; but 
this is evidently an error. Samuel Sewall, 
writing to his brother Stephen, at Bishop- 
Stoke, Hampshire, October 24, 1680, says: — 

" Bro. Longfellow's Father, Will m Longfellow 
lives at Hosforth, near Leeds in Yorkshire. Tell 
him Bro. has a son W m a fine likely child, a very 
good piece of Land, & greatly wants a little stock 
to manage it." 1 

It is known that the father was alive in 
August, 1687, but probably died in the 
autumn, as the son went to England in No- 

1 N. E. Hist, and Genealog. Register, Vol. XXIV. No. 2, 
April, 1870. 



14 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

vember or December of that year to get his 
patrimony. 

The residence of William Longfellow was 
in the Byfield parish of Newbury. "The 
location of the house is unsurpassed. It is 
situated on a sightly eminence at the very 
head of tide water on the river Parker, the 
sparkle of whose waters, as they go tumbling 
over the falls, adds a picturesqueness to the 
natural beauty of the scenery that lies spread 

on either hand Nature was lavish 

here, and young Longfellow, appreciating it 
all, erected the house to which he took his 
young bride. It still stands, though two cen- 
turies and more have passed since its oaken 
frame was put together. It has not been oc- 
cupied for twenty odd years, and of course is 
in a dilapidated condition. The large chim- 
ney was taken down years ago,'' — to the 
poet's great regret, — " and a part of the house 
itself has been removed." 1 The picture of 

1 Letter of Horace F. Longfellow to the Brunswick Tele- 
graph, March 10, 1882. 




THE HOUSE AT NEWBURY. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 17 

the house and surroundings was painted by 
Charles Lanman, and presented to the poet, 
by whose favor it was copied. 

As ensign of the Newbury company, the 
first American Longfellow had a part in the 
disastrous expedition against Quebec under 
command of Sir William Phipps. The force, 
consisting of 2,200 soldiers, set sail in thirty- 
two vessels from Boston, August 9, 1690. 
The attempt to capture the stronghold failed, 
and the expedition was abandoned. On the 
return voyage a violent storm in the Gulf 
of St. Lawrence scattered the fleet, and one 
of the vessels, containing the Newbury com- 
pany, was wrecked on the island of Anti- 
costi. William Longfellow and nine others 
were drowned. 1 

Stephen Longfellow, son of the first settler 
William, was born in 1685. He was the " vil- 
lage blacksmith " and ensign in the militia of 
the town. He married Abigail Thompson, 
daughter of a clergyman in Marshfield ; and 

1 Sewall's Diary, Nov. 21, 1690, Vol. I. p. 335. 



18 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

the position of an "elder" in a theocracy like 
the Massachusetts Colony was a strong guar- 
anty for the respectability of his son-in-law. 
His fifth son, Stephen, was born at the old 
homestead, February 7, 1723, and was gradu- 
ated at Harvard College in 1742. He lived 
for a short time at York, and in 1745 was in- 
vited to Portland (then a part of Falmouth) 
to take charge of the grammar school. 1 A 
curious item is preserved as to his salary. It 
was fixed by the town at £50 for the first 
year, besides 18s. 6d. tuition to be paid by 
each scholar. The second year his salary 
was raised to £200. The records of the time 
attest that he was probably one of the most 
widely known and respected citizens of the 
District of Maine. For nearly thirty years 
he held office, as clerk of the town and par- 
ish, Register of Probate, and Clerk of the 
Judicial Court. His handwriting was fair 
and regular, and his habits of mind method- 
ical and clerkly. This peculiarity of beauti- 

1 This appears in the Diary of Rev. Thomas Smith. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 19 

ful penmanship lias continued in the family 
to this day. Tradition has it that he was 
a bright and entertaining companion, noted 
for sallies of wit and for inexhaustible good 
humor. A note in the diary of the Rev. 
Thomas Smith records the fact that Long- 
fellow once accompanied him to an ordi- 
nation, and was so lively (in spite of the 
solemnity of the occasion) that, says the 
good parson, " I fear we somewhat passed 
the bounds of decorum." 

This clerical Longfellow married Tabitha 
Bragdon, of York, in 1749. A son was born 
in 1750, August 3, and was duly christened 
Stephen. At the age of twenty-three this 
Stephen was married to Patience Young of 
York. lie lived at Gorham (whither also his 
father came afterwards), and was a surveyor 
by profession. He held many public offices, 
and was Judge of the Common Pleas from 
1797 to 1811. Persons still living remember 
him as he drove into Portland " in an old 
square-topped chaise." " He was a fine-look- 



20 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

ing gentleman, with the bearing' of the old 
school, erect, portly, rather taller than the 
average, with a strongly marked face, and his 
hair tied behind in a club with a black rib- 
bon. To the close of his life he wore the old 
style of dress, — knee breeches, a long waist- 
coat, and white top-boots. He was a man of 
sterling qualities of mind and heart, — ster- 
ling integrity, and sound common sense. 1 ' 1 

Falmouth, an important place on account of 
its noble harbor, was bombarded by a Brit- 
ish fleet under command of Captain Henry 
Mo watt, October 18,1775. This was in re- 
turn for the indignity of an arrest endured 
by Moffatt when ashore. Over four hundred 
buildings were burned, and the greater num- 
ber of citizens were driven to the interior. 
The Longfellow family removed to Gorham, 
a few miles west, and continued to reside 
there. Stephen, the Clerk of Court, died 
there in 1790, His son, the Judge, died 
there in 1824 

1 Rev. II. S. Burrage, Portland Advertiser, Feb. 28, 1882. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 21 

Stephen Longfellow, father of the poet, v. 
\)<>vn in Gorham, March 2*3, 177^ At the 
age of eighteen he entered Harvard Collej 
and u.i graduated with honor in L798. His 
rank is attested by his being chosen a mem- 
ber of fche Phi Beta Kappa Society. 

The descriptions of his person and man- 
ners) and of fche qualities of his mind and 
heart, read as if fchey bad been written for 
fche poet himself* 1 

His classmate, Humphrey Devereux, of 
Salem, says: "On entering college, Long- 
fellow (Stephen) was in advance ift years of 
many of us, and liis mind and judgment, of 
(•(huso, more matured He had a, well bal- 
anced mind, no pari, so prominent as to over- 
shadow ihe rest In his temperament, 

he was bright and cheerfnl, and engaged 
freely in the social pleasures of friendly meet- 
ings and literary associations. His man- 
ners then as in later life were courteous, 

1 "The Law, Courts, and Lawyers of Maine," by William 

Willi . 



22 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

polished, and simple, springing from a native 
politeness or a generous, manly feeling. He 
was born a gentleman, and was a general 
favorite of his class." 

The illustrious Dr. Channing says : "I 
never knew a man more free from every- 
thing offensive to good taste or good feel- 
ing ; even to his dress and personal appear- 
ance, all about him was attractive 

He was evidently a well-bred gentleman 
when he left the paternal mansion for the 
University. He seemed to breathe an atmos- 
phere of purity as his natural element, while 
his bright intelligence, buoyant spirits, and 
social warmth diffused a sunshine of joy that 
made his presence always gladsome." 

His portrait (in Willis's volume) is that of 
a bright, clear-minded, courteous, and refined 
gentleman. He studied law in Portland, in 
the office of Salmon Chase, an eminent advo- 
cate, uncle of Salmon Portland Chase, after- 
wards Secretary of the Treasury in the Cabi- 
net of Abraham Lincoln, and Chief Justice 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 23 

of the United States Supreme Court. He 
attained a very high rank at the bar, as well 
as an influential position among his fellow- 
citizens. In the year 1814 he was sent as a 
delegate to the famous Hartford Convention 
of Federalists. In 1822 he was elected a 
member of Congress, and served with Web- 
ster, Clay, Randolph, Buchanan, and other 
distinguished men. But he did not accept 
a renomination ; public life had no charm for 
him, and he gladly returned to his profes- 
sion. In 1824, as the leading citizen, he wel- 
comed Lafayette to Portland, and was hon- 
ored by an exquisitely graceful reply. He 
continued to devote himself to his legal busi- 
ness, to the interests of Bowdoin College, of 
which he was one of the Trustees, and to the 
Maine Historical Society, of which he was 
an active and efficient member. 

He was married, January 1, 1804, to Zil- 
pah, daughter of General Peleg Wadsworth, 
who was a prominent officer in the war of 
independence. General Wadsworth was a 



24 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

man of high character and of eminent abil- 
ity. It would be impossible here to give 
even the most cursory sketch of his long and 
active life. 1 It should be mentioned, how- 
ever, that he was descended from the Pil- 
grims of Plymouth, Mass., five of his ances- 
tors, including Elder Brewster and John 
Alden, having been passengers in the first 
memorable voyage of the Mayflower. The 
genealogy of the Wadsworths, and the line 
of descent from John Alden mav be seen in 
the Appendix. 

The ancestry of the family of the poet's 
mother is interesting on account of the con- 
nection with the well-known tradition of 
Captain Miles Standish's vicarious courtship. 
She was connected by two different lines to 
that Priscilla Mullen whose significant an- 
swer, " Why don't you speak for yourself, 
John % " has been preserved in the beautiful 
romance of her descendant. Zilpah Wads- 

1 See his Memoir in the Appendix, by the Hon. William 
Goold, of Windham, Me. 




LONGFELLOW'S BIRTHPLACE, PORTLAND. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 27 

worth was born in Duxbury, Mass., Jan. G, 
1788, while her father was in the Revolution- 
ary army. All accounts tend to show that 
she was a superior woman, possessed of her 
full share of the hereditary bravery and hon- 
orable qualities which marked her father and 
her gallant brothers. At the close of the 
war her father and family removed to Maine, 
and lived partly in Portland and partly in 
the town of Hiram, then called Wadsworth's 
Grant, the name of a large tract of land 
bought by the General from the State of 
Massachusetts. 

Mr. Longfellow lived for the first y ear 
after his marriage in the house built by his 
wife's father, now known as the Longfellow 
house. It stands upon Congress Street, ad- 
joining the Preble House. It happened in 
the autumn of 1806 that a sister, Mrs. Ste- 
phenson, invited Mr. Longfellow and wife to 
pass the winter in her house, on account of 
the absence of her husband in the West In- 
dies. The Stephenson house, a large, square 



28 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

wooden structure, is still standing at the cor- 
ner of Fore and Hancock Streets. It was 
during the temporary residence of the family 
at this house that the poet was born. His 
name was given in remembrance of his 
mother's brother, Henry Wads worth, a bril- 
liant young naval officer, who fell in the 
attack upon Tripoli in 1804. • 

Not long after, General Wadsworth re- 
moved to his estate in Hiram ; and from that 
time the family of Stephen Longfellow con- 
tinued to occupy the General's house. 

Mr. Longfellow, the poet's father, lived in 
happiness with the wife of his youth for more 
than forty-five years. There were born to 
them four sons and four daughters. Stephen, 
the eldest, the poet's classmate in college, died 
in 1850. Alexander Wadsworth Longfellow 
is still living in Portland. The Rev. Sam- 
uel Longfellow is an esteemed clergyman in 
Germantown, near Philadelphia, and is the 
author of numerous admirable poems. Eliz- 
abeth Wadsworth Longfellow died in 1829, 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 29 

and Ellen Longfellow in 1834. Two daugh- 
ters survive, Mrs. Anne Longfellow Pierce, of 
Portland, and Mrs. Mary Longfellow Green- 
leaf, of Cambridge, Mass. The father died, 
August 3, 1849, at the age of seventy-four. 
The poet, wdio was the second son, was 
born in Portland, February 27, 1807. 

It will be seen that the poet inherited the 
best blood of the two early colonies, Pilgrim 
and Puritan ; and that his place in the line 
of descent was where the best qualities of 
both came to maturity. The rise of families 
from obscurity, the increase of intellectual 
power (following wise marriages) generation 
by generation, and the progressive refine- 
ment of taste and feeling, until the accumu- 
lation forces the blossom of genius in the 
person of some fortunate descendant, is a 
most interesting study. The problem is to 
continue the culture without tending to loss 
of power, and without sacrificing the indi- 
viduality. 

After tracing the lines of descent with as 



30 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

much care as is possible, a biographer must 
still feel that he is far from the mystery of 
the genesis of genius. The Longfellows for 
generations were tall and vigorous men, with 
the instincts and training of soldiers ; the 
Wadsworths had their virtues and their hero- 
ic bravery; but never before this fortunate 
conjunction (so far as we know) was there 
in either family a gleam of the poetic fac- 
ulty. After all that has been written upon 
heredity, it remains true, we think, that 
genius is a miracle. The sober and prac- 
tical abilities commonly grouped under the 
name of talent are transmissible. Good bod- 
ies, solid characters, courage, good sense, and 
capacity for affairs, may be predicted with 
something like certainty in well-descended 
families ; but no one can say that at such 
a point there will be born the creator of a 
Hamlet, an Endymion, a Childe Harold, an 
Evangeline, or a Sir Launfal. In fact, it is 
almost certain that there are not half a dozen 
instances in all history of two men of un- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 31 

questioned genius who bear to each other 
the relation of father and son. Poets have, 
as a rule, left few inheritors of their blood, 
and those have seldom been singers by im- 
pulse. 

Though nothing that is ultimately per- 
fect is produced without labor, yet in the 
case of a man of genius, whether poet, 
sculptor, or painter, that which distinguishes 
him is the almost unconscious development 
of creative power. He does not toil for an 
image of beauty; it comes to him. As 
Longfellow observed, " What we call mira- 
cles and wonders of art are not so to him 
who created them; for they were created 
by the natural movements of his own great 
soul. Statues, paintings, churches, poems, 
are but shadows of himself, — shadows in 
marble, colors, stone, words: He feels and 
recognizes their beauty ; but he thought these 
thoughts and produced these things as easily . 
as inferior minds do thoughts and things 
inferior." 



32 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

In the Longfellow family the foundations 
were laid two centuries ago. Each father 
strove to place his son in a higher position 
than he himself had held. Each was faithful 
to his appointed task, and to the duty which 
was nearest. The long wars with the French 
and Indians, and afterwards with England, 
allowed no time for any but practical studies. 
Character then as now counted for more than 
accomplishment. The axe, the spade, and 
the musket were more familiar to early Long- 
fellows than the pen. It was not until peace 
came, and plenty followed, and the labors of 
the farmer, the advocate, and the judge had 
brought prosperity and affluence and the 
right of leisure into the family, that there 
was a possibility of " The Psalm of Life," or 
" The Footsteps of Angels." * 

In the sketch of Lowell it was shown that 
poetry was incompatible with early Puritan- 
ism. It is needless here to dwell upon the 
barrenness of the first century of our history, 
or to detail the causes which so long pre- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 33 

vented the development of literature and art. 
For half a century after the peace with Great 
Britain there was a brooding time. Wounds 
were healed ; laws were re-established ; col- 
leges were reopened and schools fostered; 
trade sprung up ; ascetic views of life faded ; 
provincial narrowness disappeared ; and then 
came a revival or new birth of letters. In 
this fortunate time the poet Longfellow was 
born. , 

PORTLAND. 1 

Few cities upon the seaboard are so beau- 
tifully situated as Portland. The view to one 
coming up the harbor is something never to 
be forgotten. Cape Elizabeth stretches out 
on one hand like a gigantic wall, with a 
light-house at its southern extremity ; and on 
the other are the many lovely islands of 
Casco Bay. The city rises from the water 

1 For this part of his work the author has made free use 
of the elaborate account by Edward H. Elwell, Esq., published 
in the Portland Advertiser, Feb. 28, 1882. 

3 



34 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

by easy and natural swells, and the ensemble 
is completed by the dome-like crowns of 
Munjoy and Bramhall Hills. Behind are nat- 
ural forests, and a profusion of noble trees 
skirt the principal streets. This charming 
union of rural and urban beauty, as seen 
from the harbor, gives a delightful surprise 
to the incoming voyager. The Forest City 
is its very appropriate and picturesque name. 
Hints of this remembered beauty are to be 
seen in Longfellow's poem entitled "My Lost 
Youth." 

" I can see the shadowy lines of its trees, 

And catch, in sudden gleams, 
The sheen of the far-surrounding seas, 
And islands that were the Hesperides 

Of all my boyish dreams." 

" I can see the breezy dome of groves, 

The shadows of Deering's Woods," etc. 

In the latter part of the last century it was 
a fishing village, and was called Falmouth 
Neck. Its recovery was slow after its de- 
struction by the British fleet ; but in 1807, 




THE LONGFELLOW HOUSE, PORTLAND. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 37 

the year of Longfellow's birth, it had become 
a place of commercial importance.' 

"I remember the black wharves and the slips 
Arid the sea-tide* tossing free ; 

And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, 

And the beauty and mystery of the ships, 
And the magic of the sea." 

In 1812, during the war, defensive works 
were erected on the shore, and garrisons were 
established on Munjoy Hill. The impres- 
sions of that stirring time were never effaced. 
Longfellow's sonorous lines show how deeply 
his boyish mind was affected. 

" I remember the bulwarks by the shore, 
And the fort upon the hill ; 
The sunrise gun with its hollow roar, 
The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er, 
And the bugle wild and shrill. 
And the music of that old song 
Throbs in my memory still : 
'A boy's will is the wind's will, 
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.' " 

1 As an evidence of the business of Portland, it may be 
mentioned that in 1806, when its population was probably 
less than 7,000, the tonnage of its shipping was 39,000, and 
the duties collected amounted to $346,444. 



38 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

Another tragic reminiscence was the sea- 
fior-ht between the British brig- Boxer and the 
United States brig Enterprise, which took 
place off the coast. The captains of both 
vessels were killed in the action, and were 
buried in the cemetery at the foot of Mun- 
joy Hill. In the poeni before quoted is this 
stanza : — 

" I remember the sea-fight far away, 
How it thundered o'er the tide ! 
And the dead captains, as they lay 
In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay, 
Where they in battle died. 

And the sound of that mournful song 
Goes through me with a thrill : 
' A boy's will is the wind's will, 
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.' " 

At the time of Longfellow's boyhood, the 
fashions of the Revolutionary period were just 
passing away. The speech of the people was 
homely, and inflected with the old Yankee 
accent. Cows were pastured on Munjoy Hill. 
There were few private carriages. A stage 
conveyed passengers to Boston ; but much of 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 39 

the intercourse with other sea-coast towns 
was by sailing-vessels. When, afterwards, 
the young Longfellows went to college, they 
made the journey by coasters through Casco 
Bay to Harps well. The two newspapers were 
published weekly. There was no theatre or 
other place of amusement, but West India 
rum was plentiful and in daily use. There 
were learned lawyers and clergymen, but it 
is not probable that there was much in the 
intellectual life of the town to favor the de- 
velopment of a poet. / 

In the towns near the sea-coast, from New- 
port to Portland, there was a great similarity 
in domestic architecture. A large number of 
the better class of the old houses have been 
torn down or rebuilt. In Boston and vicinity 
very few remain ; although in Charlestown, 
Cambridge, Salem, Newburyport, Portsmouth, 
Exeter, Dover, and towns farther eastward, 
we can still behold the typical New England 
mansion. It is ample in size and stately in 
form. It is associated with reminiscences 



40 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

of ruffles, shoe-buckles, silver-topped canes, 
courtly manners, and hospitality. It is the 
house of the judge, the Continental general, 
the squire, the prosperous doctor of divinity 
or of medicine, or of the merchant whose 
ships have brought him spices, ivory, and 
gold dust from over sea. It is generally 
of three stories, the third being somewhat 
abridged ; and the form is quadrangular, fifty 
feet on a side. Various extensions and out- 
buildings are in the rear, and sometimes on 
the sides. The front door opens into a wide 
hall, from which a grand stairway leads to 
the upper stories. The hall is wainscoted, 
and hung with rather stiff portraits. The 
stairway is broad and the steps are wide, 
giving an easy ascent to the landings. Twist- 
ed and carved balusters support the hand- 
rail, each one wrought separately in some 
quaint device. There are four large, square 
rooms on the ground floor, each with its 
open fireplace and elaborately carved mantel- 
piece. The walls are thick, like those of a 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 41 

fortalice, and the windows are recessed like 
embrasures. Those who are accustomed to 
the cardboard structures of our time, whether 
in the form of Italian villas, Swiss chalets, or 
white-pine Gothic, have a strange sensation 
in visiting these solid dwellings. There is an 
air of repose in them, an idea of amplitude 
and permanence. One feels that the builders 
must have been large-minded, serene men. 
A fashionable dwelling of fifteen feet front 
on the new land of the Back Bay in Boston 
furnishes a perfect antithesis. The ancient 
houses were well placed, in grounds of some 
extent, on the crest of a natural elevation, or 
near a grove, with broad, grassy lawns, bor- 
dered by elms and oaks, and dotted with firs 
and spruces, and with clumps of flowering 
shrubs. The distinguishing features of the 
old towns of New England are still these 
superb mansions. They are generally paint- 
ed buff or cream-white, having green blinds 
and high and heavy chimneys ; and in their 
picturesque situations and surroundings they 



42 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

give an almost poetical charm to the land- 
scape. 

Such is a general description of the houses 
in which Longfellow has lived : the Stephen- 
son house and the Wadsworth-Longfellow 
house in Portland, and the Vassall-Craigie 
house in Cambridge. 

It will be remembered that the poet's fa- 
ther was a highly successful and prosperous 
advocate, and that his maternal grandfather 
was possessed of an ample estate, and it is 
fair to presume that the boy had every ad- 
vantage in his education which wealth and 
liberality could procure. 

It should also be remembered that with 
the sensible men of the last generation the 
training of boys to habits of industry and 
obedience was not as now one of the lost 
arts. Unquestionably, the poet and his 
brothers and sisters had the strict and care- 
ful training which has been the making of 
so many honorable and useful men and 
women, in New England and elsewhere,. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 43 

But on the other hand there were never 
kinder or more considerate parents than 
Stephen and Zilpah Longfellow. 

BOYnOOD AND YOUTH. 

''At a very early age our poet attended a 
private school kept by Mrs. Fellows, and 
afterwards another kept by Mr. Nathaniel 
H. Carter. This master became afterwards 
Principal of the Portland Academy, and 
there Longfellow began to prepare for col- 
lege. During the latter part of the time he 
was under the charge of Mr. Cushman, who 
succeeded Carter. ' Mr. Carter was a man of 
superior attainments, and wrote a volume of 
patriotic poems ; though one wonders into 
what limbo of forgetfulness the volume has 
fallen. When he left Portland he went to 
New York and became editor of the Even- 
ing Post, afterwards Mr. Bryant's paper. » At 
the age of fourteen Henry and his elder 
brother Stephen entered Bowdoin College, at 
Brunswick, not far east of Portland. For the 



44 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

first year he pursued his studies mainly at 
home. 

He must have been a great reader as well 
as a thorough student, because in his earliest 
writings there is an evident wide acquaint- 
ance with English and other modern litera- 
tures. In fact, his was hardly a " boyhood," 
in the usual sense of the term. He enjoyed 
an occasional sail among the islands, and 
was a frequent visitor at the paternal home 
in Gorham and at the house of his grand- 
father Wadsworth. In these places, which 
are full of beautiful water-courses, woods, 
and meadows, he gained the intimate ac- 
quaintance with nature which is the indis- 
pensable training of a poet. From these 
rural scenes, and from the views of the 
countless green islands and the storm-beaten 
coast, he drew the inspiration which was to 
be as lasting as life. 

But he does not appear to have had time, 
or perhaps inclination, for the common out- 
door sports and pastimes of youth. Yacht- 




_-_ 



THE "WADS WORTH" HOUSE, HIRAM, ME. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 47 

ing, hunting, fishing, and games were for such 
as did not propose to become learned at 
twenty. It is strange to think of a hearty, 
vigorous, and manly boy advancing to matu- 
rity without boyish adventures, peccadilloes, 
or accidents, and gliding into a professor's 
chair in a few years after leaving his moth- 
er's knee. 

Among his classmates, besides his brother, 
were Hawthorne, John S. C. Abbott, Rev. 
George B. Cheever, Cilley, who was killed 
in a duel by Graves of Kentucky, and James 
W. Bradbury. His scholarship was evident 
from the beginning, and at graduation lie 
stood second in a class numbering thirty- 
seven. He was appointed one of the orators, 
and was assigned the theme of " Chatterton" ; 
but the Faculty was induced to change the 
theme proposed, and he delivered an oration 
on " American Literature." 

How Longfellow looked at this period, as 
well as the impression he made upon his as- 
sociates, may be seen in a recent letter from 



48 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

his classmate Bradbury to Peter Thacher, 
Esq. 1 The reference to Hawthorne, though 
perhaps gratuitous, is an interesting bit of 
literary history. 

" Augusta, January 13, 1882. 

" Dear Sir, .... 

" My recollection is that he entered college a 
Sophomore, 2 and that I was examined with him 
to enter old Bowdoin in the same class. He 
was then quite young, with a slight, erect figure, 
a remarkably fair and delicate complexion, with 
the bloom of health, clear blue eyes, an intelli- 
gent and pleasing expression of countenance, and 
a good head covered with a profusion of rather 
light brown hair. He was an agreeable compan- 
ion, kindly and social in his manner, rendering 
himself dear to his associates by his disposition 
and deportment. Pure in his tastes and morals, 
his character was without a stain. As a scholar, 
while indulging in general reading, and occasion- 
ally flirting with the Muses, he always came to 
the recitation-room so thoroughly prepared in his 

1 Mr. Thacher is a well-known lawyer of Boston, and Ms 
wife is the sister of the first wife of the poet. 

2 Only partially correct. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 49 

lessons that he placed himself in the front rank 
in the large and able class of 1825 ; and on gradu- 
ating he received one of the three English orations 
assigned to that class for the Commencement ex- 
ercises, — the English orations then and for more 
than thirty years afterward outranking the Latin 
in that College. 

" In the recitation-room he was greatly superior 
to his subsequently illustrious classmate, *Haw- 
thorne, who often came so poorly prepared in 
his lessons that he was one of the twelve in a 
class of thirty-eight to whom no part was assigned 
at Commencement. 

" Hawthorne (then spelt Hathorne) was in col- 
lege a peculiar and rather remarkable young man, 
— shy, retiring, fond of general reading, busy with 
his own thoughts, and usually alone or with one 
or two of his special friends, Pierce (afterwards 
President), and Horatio Bridge of Augusta. 

" It is a remarkable fact in Hawthorne's history 
as an author that, after he had left the manu- 
script for his first volume with Mr. Goodrich 1 
for publication, Mr. Bridge had occasion to in- 
quire why the issue of it was delayed, and was 

1 Samuel G. Goodrich, a well-known writer, with the pseu- 
donym of Peter Parley. 



50 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

told by Mr. Goodrich that, as the author was un- 
known, he needed some guaranty against loss. Mr. 
Bridge thereupon gave his guaranty, unknown to 
Hawthorne. 

" Had he been apprised of Mr. Goodrich's re- 
fusal, with his sensitive nature, it is likely that he 
would have withdrawn and burnt the manuscript, 
and possibly the world would have lost the fruits 
of his rare genius. 

" Very truly yours, 

"James W. Bradbury." 

The venerable Professor Packard, who 
was a member of the Faculty in the same 
period, has written a short account of the 
appearance of Longfellow as a student. This 
is in a letter which is also addressed to Mr. 
Thacher. 

"Brunswick, My,., January 12, 1882. 

"My dear Sir, — 

" Your letter of yesterday has just been received. 
In regard to Mr. Longfellow's appearance, &c. in 
college, I have only a few distinct reminiscences. 
I remember him as a light-haired, agreeable, well- 
bred, and well-mannered youth. I judge that his 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 51 

preferences were for classical studies, and whatever 
addressed the aesthetic element was largely devel- 
oped in him at an early period. His poetic effu- 
sions attracted notice as the 'Poet's Corner' in 
Portland newspapers, and in college placed him 
in the highest rank of college poets. During a 
winter vacation I was visiting in Boston, and met 
Mr. Carter, then conducting the ' Literary Gazette,' 
who asked me whom we had in our college that 
wrote such fine poetry ? It was Longfellow. He 
delivered the poem at the anniversary of the Peu- 
cinian Societj-, the same season. I cannot name it. 
Mr. J. S. C. Abbott, in his address to his class at 
their fiftieth anniversary, in 1875, related an in- 
cident which I had not known before; viz. that 
young Longfellow's translation of an Ode of Hor- 
ace at the annual examination in his Sophomore 
year attracted the notice of Hon. Benjamin Orr, 
one of the committee of examination, and led him 
to think of him as a candidate for the new Pro- 
fessorship of Modern Languages then in contem- 
plation. 

" He did not have a poem at his graduation, 
because the rank of a poem was indefinite, and he 
was assigned one of the English orations, the high- 
est class of appointments. 



52 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

" You see that I have not much in detail to write 
concerning Mr. Longfellow ; but I have a distinct 
image of him in memory as-- he sat, in his Sopho- 
more year, in the recitation-room, North Entry, 
Maine, middle back room. I regret to hear that 
he is in feeble health. I did not call upon him 
when I spent several days in Boston undergoing 
the dull process of sitting for my portrait, for my 
time was occupied, and moreover I avoid any in- 
crease of the interruptions such a man must expe- 
rience every day. 

" I am faithfully yours, 

"A. S. Packard." 

Longfellow's college themes were fre- 
quently skilful versions from Horace and 
other classic authors ; and this fact, to- 
gether with his uncommon maturity of 
mind and character, drew attention to him 
at an early period, and led subsequently to 
his appointment to the newly established 
chair of Modern Languages, for which Mad- 
ame Bowdoin gave the foundation. 

Professor Cleaveland, the eminent miner- 
alogist, was a member of the Faculty at 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 53 

this time ; and though their tastes and pur- 
suits varied, it is believed that the elder, who 
was a very able and magnetic man, exercised 
a salutary influence upon the mind of the 
rising poet. Longfellow has commemorated 
the Professor in a fine sonnet. 

WOOING THE MUSES. 

Like all inspired poets, Longfellow began 
to write verses at an early age. The " Ear- 
lier Poems " in the collected edition are such 
as he thought worth preserving. It appears 
to us, however, that some of those which he 
rejected are quite equal to the ones he chose 
to acknowledge. With a pleasing quaint- 
ness he has prefaced the group thus : — 

" These poems were written for the most part 
during my college life, and all of them before the 
age of nineteen. Some have found their way into 
schools, and seem to be successful. Others lead 
a vagabond and precarious existence in the cor- 
ners of newspapers ; or have changed their names 
and run away to seek their fortunes beyond the 



54 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

sea. I say, with the Bishop of Avranches on a 
similar occasion : " I cannot be displeased to see 
these children of mine, which I have neglected, 
and almost exposed, brought from their wander- 
ings in lanes and alleys, and safety lodged, in or- 
der to go forth into the world together in a more 
decorous garb.' " 

These with a number of others were pub- 
lished in the United States Literary Gazette, 
conducted by Theophilus Parsons and James 
C. Carter. 1 The remuneration for them was 
small indeed. A short time before his death 
Mr. Longfellow told the author that on one 
occasion, in Boston, having' received notice 
that the munificent sum of thirteen dollars had 
been placed to his credit, for two poems and 
a prose article, he declined to receive the 
money, but accepted instead a set of Chat- 
terton's Works, which are still in his library. 
This was the day of small things in letters. 

1 Longfellow's contributions to this periodical have lately 
been collected and published in London. His poems not in- 
cluded in his complete works will be found, with dates, etc., 
in the Appendix. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 55 

The public-spirited writers for the North 
American Review at that time not only fur- 
nished their articles without pay, but often 
had to contribute to make up the losses of 
the printer. 

It may also be said here that our poet 
got no pay from the Knickerbocker Maga- 
zine, though he was promised five dollars 
each for the "Psalm of Life" and "The 
Reaper and the Flowers." Almost every lit- 
erary man in America had a similar expe- 
rience with the last-named periodical. To be 
sure, Milton's traditionary five pounds for 
"Paradise Lost" was a more unconscionable 
bargain ;* but in our day, when poets sel- 
dom receive less than from fifty to two hun- 
dred dollars for short poems, the thought of 
buying the immortal " Psalm of Life " for 
five dollars, and not paying for it either, 
appears preposterous. 

1 The current story is not true. See the account in Mas- 
son's Life of Milton, wherein it is shown that Milton and his 
family received altogether ,£28 for the poem. 



56 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

Mr. Samuel Ward (in the New York World, 
March 25, 1882) says respecting "The Keap- 
er and the Flowers " : "I was greatly stirred 
by the dash of the verse and the symmetry 
of the series of pictures it so graphically 
presented. I took the poem and read it 
aloud, and I think that the poet's own opin- 
ion was confirmed by my enthusiastic ren- 
dering of the part. I carried it to New 
York, where, having shown it to the poet 
Halleck, and obtained a certificate from him 
of its surpassing lyric excellence, I sold it 
to Mr. Lewis Gay lord Clarke, of the Knick- 
erbocker Magazine, for fifty dollars, a large 
price in those days for any poetical produc- 
tion." 

Only a fortnight before Mr. Longfellow's 
death the author made inquiry of him as 
to what pieces had been published in the 
Knickerbocker, and the prices paid for them. 
Mr. Longfellow replied good-humoredly that 
there were two, and that he was paid noth- 
ing. Again in the course of the evening 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 57 

the same matter was spoken of, and Mr. 
Longfellow repeated the statement, that he 
did not receive a dollar for either poem. 
One may be reasonably reluctant to spoil 
such a complacent story as Mr. Ward's, but 
Mr. Longfellow's statement ought to be de- 
cisive. The Knickerbocker paid nobody ; 
and it was not alone among periodicals in 
its way of " developing native talent." Mr. 
N. P. Willis, in a letter addressed to the 
author in 1844, said, " You could not sell a 
piece of poetry in America." 

The fact has no importance, except as 
showing that the authors of forty years ago 
wrote from an inward impulse or the desire 
of posthumous fame, and with the certainty 
that their labors could not procure them a 
morsel of bread. Mr. Longfellow fortunately 
was not dependent upon his writings for sup- 
port. 

In the works of most poets we see in 
succession the characteristic traits of youth, 
of maturity, and of age. We are prepared 



58 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

at the outset for tumults of passion, for uncal- 
culating enthusiasm, and for an exuberance 
of imagery. The poetic impulse is at its 
height at the dawn of manhood. Years of 
study and experience may discipline the 
powers, giving material and skill both, but 
will never add a jot to the natural gift. 
The great poets have manifested their vo- 
cation before mental maturity. Shellev's 
" Alastor," full of natural piety, and tremu- 
lous with adolescent passion, was the fresh 
utterance from the heart of a boy. Nothing 
more absolutely of the essence of genius 
ever came from that unfortunate poet's pen. 
Pope tells us he lisped in " numbers," and 
his most poetical work, "The Eape of the 
Lock," was published at the age of 24. 
Byron's premices were gathered at 19. Mil- 
ton's " Comus" was written at 24, and the 
"Lycidas" at 30. Coleridge's " Lyrical Bal- 
lads" appeared when he was 26, Scott's first 
poems at 25, Wordsworth's at 24, Keats's 
"Endymion" at 24, Browning's first poems 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 59 

at 22, Swinburne's " Atalanta" at 21, Lamb's 
sonnets at 21, Hood's early poems at 26, 
Landor's at 21, Charles Kinsley's at 26, 
Felicia Hemans's at 22, Bryant's " Thana- 
topsis" at 19, Willis's while an undergradu- 
ate in college, Lowell's " Year's Life" at 21. 
* We have seen that the genius of Long- 
fellow had also an early development ; but 
it is noticeable that there were no evidences 
of immaturity in his early poems, still less of 
riotous passion or an overwrought diction. 
They have a delightful tranquillity, free from 
strain or effort. The lines seem to have 
been born in due order, and thereby the 
soul of the poet had its full desire, instead 
of being governed or turned aside by the 
exigencies of measure and rhyme. Thus a 
singular and classic completeness marked his 
poems from the beginning. The period of 
his youth glided into that of maturity im- 
perceptibly, as the brook widens into the 
river. . 



60 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, 



A YOUNG PEOFESSOE. 
/ 

Upon his graduation in 1825, Longfellow 
began the study of law in his father's office; 
but he had no taste for the profession, and 
not long after was fortunate in having the 
opportunity to begin a literary career. The 
Professorship of Modern Languages was es- 
tablished at Bowdoin College, and the ap- 
pointment was tendered to him, with leave 
of absence for travel and study. 

He sailed for Europe in 1826, and visit- 
ed France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Holland, 
and England. He returned in 1829, and as- 
sumed the duties of his professorship. Mr. 
Peter Thacher writes as follows : — 

"In the autumn of 1829, Mr. Longfellow entered 
upon bis duties as Professor of Modern Languages 
in Bowdoin College. Your correspondent then 
saw him for the first time. He had a fine, erect 
figure, a complexion of great purity and delicacy, 
and a great deal of color. He was youthful in his 
appearance, and eminently handsome. His man- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 61 

ners and conversation were charming. He pos- 
sessed a most prepossessing address, and was dis- 
tinguished for his courtesy and affability. His 
intercourse with the students was mutually satis- 
factory. He manifested no hauteur or stiffness. 
Freedom and ease predominated in the recitation- 
room, yet there was nothing that tended to undue 
familiarity. He recognized his pupils as gentle- 
men : they justified his estimate of them by their 
respectful demeanor towards their accomplished 
instructor. Uniformly beloved and admired by 
his pupils, his success as a teacher was all that 
could have been desired." 

In the succeeding year the Freshman class 
numbered fifty-two, — the largest that had 
up to that time entered the College ; and 
President Hamlin of Middlebury College, 
who entered Bowdoin that year, says that 
many of its members were attracted by 
Longfellow's reputation. 

In September, 1831, he was married to 
Miss Mary Storer Potter, daughter of the 
Hon. Barrett Potter, of Portland. The Pot- 
ters were early immigrants to this country, 



62 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

and were among the founders of the New 
Haven Colony. 

Barrett Potter was born, March 8, 1777, at 
Lebanon, and was graduated at Dartmouth 
College in 1796. He began the practice of 
the law at Gorham, and was afterwards part- 
ner of Salmon Chase in Portland. He was 
Judge of Probate for twenty-five years, and 
prominent in public affairs. 

Miss Potter was lovely alike in mind and 
in person. Her accomplishments were ex- 
ceptional, especially in mathematics, as it is 
said she had learned to calculate eclipses. 
She was a proficient in languages, and her 
note-books and school exercises show her su- 
perior intellect and training. She made ap- 
posite citations from the poets, and indulged 
in occasional excursions into the domain of 
metaphysics. She made a most delightful 
impression in the society of Brunswick. 

In 1833 Longfellow's first book appeared, 
" The Coplas of Don Jorge Manrique," with 
a few translations from Lope de Vega, and an 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 63 

Essay on the Moral and Devotional Poetry 
of Spain. The poem of Manrique, a solemn 
and sustained effort, is deservedly admired 
by Spaniards, and its translation was an 
exceedingly difficult task. It is but just to 
say that Longfellow's is one of the few ade- 
quate translations, fully equalling in power 
and ease the original. 1 

In the same year were issued portions of 
" Outre-Mer," although the work was not 
completed until 1835. 

The fame of Longfellow, both as a poet 
and a practical instructor, had reached Cam- 
bridge. He had prepared for his students, 

1 The following short notice of Manrique is from the pen 
of Professor Torricelli: — 

" Jorge Manrique is a very good lyrical poet, and some of 
his verses on ' Love ' are very pretty. He is not, however, one 
of the great poets of Spain. His Coplas, or stanzas upon the 
death of his father, form one of his best pieces, and, so far as 
I can now remember, Longfellow's translation is very good, — 
better, in my opinion, than the original. Such at least was 
the impression that it made on me when I first read it, sev- 
eral years ago. There was another poet of the same name, 
Gomez Manrique, who lived at the same time and died sev- 



64 HENRY WADSWORTR LONGFELLOW, 

and used with success, grammars and other 

text-books of modern languages, and was 
recognized as a rising man. In 1835, upon 
the retirement of Professor George Ticknor, 

he was appointed to the vacant chair in Har- 
vard College, with leave of absence as be- 
fore : and with his wife again visited Europe. 
lie spent the summer in Norway and Swe- 
den, and the autumn and winter in Holland 
and Germany, His wife, whose health had 
been delicate for some time, died at Rotter- 
dam, November 29, 1835, It is this lovely 
woman who is commemorated in the touch- 
ing poem entitled " The Footsteps of An- 
gels." 

oval years later, whose poems stand higher, one especially on 
Human Life. He was, I think, a brother or cousin to Jorge, 
and the notices given in some of our cyclopaedias and biblio- 
graphical dictionaries seem to confound the two and consider 
them as the same person. Jorge was quite young when he 
died, and, judging from his beginning, might have become 
great if his life had been snared. His being known here is 
due only to Longfellow. What I say is from memory, having 
read a great deal on the subject many years ago. Scanty as 
the information is, however, it is correct." 






A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 65 

"A: them the Being B« 

all tbinj me, 

irj heai 

«' Wiu, and nc tep 

Comef fcbat nw divine, 

nt chair beside me, 
I. oile band in mi 

" And gaze* 

With those deep and tench 
like th o --.till and saint-li 

■ 

" Uttered not, jret comprebended, 
I the : piril 

ended, 
itbing from ber Hpa of air. 

M 0, though oft depressed and lonely, 
All my fears are laid aside, 
If I bat remember only 

ich as these have lived and died, 1 

It is by glimpses like this that we see the 
tender and beautiful domestic life of the poet, 
and the character of the wife of his youth. 
The stanzas quoted cany an impression more 
lasting than any labored eulogy. y 



66 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

For a year after her death he con tinned 
his studies, and in November, 1836, he re- 
turned home to enter upon his duties as 
" Smith Professor of Modern Languages and 
Literature " at Cambridge. 

STUDIES ABROAD. 

The years of residence in Europe were 
filled with thorough, earnest work. Having 
great natural aptitude for such studies, he 
mastered all the principal modern languages 
of Europe, and made himself familiar with 
the leading works in each. His subsequent 
labors rested largely upon this universal 
knowledge, as will be seen hereafter. 

In 1839 he published " Hyperion," a prose 
romance. The hero, Paul Flemming, is an 
American traveller, whose few adventures 
form the slight thread of the story. In 
" Outre-Mer " and " Hyperion " may be seen 
maps of Longfellow's travels, and intima- 
tions of his progress in letters and art. In 
the first freshness of his youth he left be- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 67 

hind him the barrenness of the New World 
to satiate himself with tho learning:, culture, 
tradition, and genius of Europe. Many a 
young man had done the same, but it was 
for a poet's eyes to discern the picturesque 
in scenes made familiar by countless books 
of travel, and for a poet's pen to record the 
larger and permanent impressions of nature 
and art which still charm and instruct us in 
the tales and sketches of " Outre-Mer," and 
in the wise talk of Paul Flemming. In his 
delicate, crystal sentences are seen, as in a 
camera, the towered cities, storied cathe- 
drals, and ruined castles, as well as the 
mountains, lakes, and rivers, celebrated in 
song. But his mind is not wholly absorbed 
in the outward views of things ; in every 
country lie visits he divines the distinctive 
character, and feels the beat of the univer- 
sal human heart. In "Outre-Mer" the tone 
changes, chapter by chapter, as the traveller 
crosses a national boundary. He sees what 
is brightest and most characteristic in each 



68 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

country. He looks at Spain with the eyes 
of Cervantes ; in the old provincial cities of 
France, the songs of the Troubadours and 
the psalms of the cloisters are sounding in 
his ears ; in Italy, he is haunted by the 
melodic echoes of Tasso and Petrarch ; in 
Germany he hears the ancient bards, but 
still more clearly the noble strains of the 
new-born poets that were beginning to glad- 
den the world. Much as his heart was drawn 
to the art and the joyous life of Southern 
Europe, his deepest feelings were awakened 
by the legends and soul-full poetry of the 
German Fatherland. , 

Fifty years ago English-speaking people 
were almost wholly ignorant of German life 
and literature. The general notion was of a 
solid, plodding, obstinate race, distinguished 
chiefly for beer, sausages, and military drill, 
— a race destitute of courtly manners and 
personal refinement, and without any re- 
nown except in dull and obsolete philosophy 
and in the arts of war. German literature 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 69 

was a late product, — the latest of the ages. 
In form and in spirit it was wholly a new 
development, without precedent, not indebt- 
ed to classic models or to contemporaries. 
Germans and English alike are Goths ; and 
the blood of a Goth is stirred by the mighty 
cathedrals and by the long-cherished folk- 
lore as it is never stirred by the lighter and 
more graceful forms of architecture and by 
the poetry that is indigenous with the de- 
scendants of the Latin race. 

When English and American scholars first 
discovered the treasures of German poetry, 
there was an excitement like that which led 
the rush to the new continent of Columbus. 
We know how Carry le was enthralled by 
his German masters ; how Coleridge, both 
as poet and table-talker, exhibited himself 
steeped in German thought and tradition ; 
how Hawthorne's conceptions were thought 
to be tinged with the mysticism of Fouque, 
and the subtilty of Tieck ; how Emerson 
got his first awakening from the same influ- 



70 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

ences ; and, later, liow the whole Transcen- 
dental School, serenely unconscious of imi- 
tation, were talking German philosophy at 
second hand. ; Longfellow among Americans 
appears to have been the first to acknowl- 
edge the influence of those poets who are 
nearest us in blood, and whose tastes, feel- 
ings, and traditions we measurably share. 

These volumes of travel are interspersed 
with translations from Uhland, Tieck, Muller, 
Salis, Goethe, and others, full of sparkle and 
life, and full of the deep characteristic Ger- 
man sentiment. At this period Longfellow 
had published no original poems, although 
the "Earlier Poems," and some of the poems 
in "Voices of the Night" had been written 
long before. Many of these, without being 
in any sense imitations, could not have been 
written by any but a German scholar, and 
one thoroughly in sympathy with the tender 
and spiritual feeling of the poets who suc- 
ceeded Goethe. 

The incidents of travel in " Outre-Mer " 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 71 

and "Hyperion" are few. These are not 
guide-books, art catalogues, or itineraries. 
The trivial records of inns and diligences, 
the statistics of business and population, 
have no place. Instead of such details, we 
have only what is characteristic and endur- 
ing, set forth with a poet's instinctive art. 
The scenery is a charming, but unobtrusive 
background ; while the thoughts of the wise 
and the immortal forms of beauty are placed 
in rightful prominence. In the later ro- 
mance there are several brilliant sketches 
of men of genius. The picture of Jean Paul 
the Only, as a man and as a writer, is sin- 
gularly felicitous and just ; nearly as much 
must be said for the chapter on Groethe. In 
other chapters there are animated colloquies 
upon the literary life, the miseries of authors, 
the sanity of genius, and the proper sur- 
roundings of poets. 

It may be necessary to say more plainly 
that what is written of " Outre-Mer " and of 
"Hyperion" has regard to the clear pro- 



72 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

cesses of the poet's development in art, 
rather than to any popular view of the 
books as stories. Neither book is " popular " 
in the ordinary sense. " Outre-Mer " is a 
series of gay sketches and legends, done in 
the easy manner of Sterne and Washington 
Irving One sees it is the work of a young 
man, an enthusiast for antiquities, fond of 
archaisms and old-time quaintness. " Hype- 
rion " is more carefully constructed, more 
elaborate, and at times somewhat over-elab- 
orate in style, and intended as a vehicle of 
poetical ideas and descriptions, rather than 
a fascinating romance to turn the hearts of 
young ladies. The careful reader will value 
11 Hyperion" mainly for its many profound 
thoughts upon letters and the literary life, 
and for the view it gives of the poet's own 
deep- settled principles and objects in his 
chosen art. 

Longfellow somewhere says, " The secret 
studies of an author are the sunken piers 
upon which is to rest the bridge of his 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 73 

fame, spanning the dark waters of oblivion." 
With this in mind we read with enlightened 
eyes the account he gives of the studies of 
his hero : — 

" Paul Flemming buried himself in books, — in 
old dusty books. He worked his way diligently 
through the ancient poetic lore of Germany, from 
Frankish legends of St. George, and Saxon Rhyme- 
Chronicles, and Nibelungen-Lieds, and Helden- 
Buchs, and Songs of the Minnesingers and Meister- 
singers, and Ships of Fools, and Reynard the Foxes, 
and Death-Dances, and Lamentations of Damned 
Souls, into the bright, sunny land of harvests, where, 
amid the golden grain and the blue corn-flowers, walk 

the modern bards, and sing His thoughts 

were twin-born, — the thought itself, and its figura- 
tive semblance in the outer world. Thus through 
the quiet still waters of his soul each image floated 
double, 4 swan and shadow.' " 

He further says : — 

" In order fully to understand and feel the popu- 
lar poetry of Germany one must be familiar with 
the German landscape. Many sweet little poems 
are the outbreaks of momentary feelings ; — words 



74 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

to which the song of birds, the rustling of leaves, 
and the gurgle of cool waters form the appropriate 
music." 

Two paragraphs upon national literature 
show upon what broad and sure foundations, 
even at that early age, the mind and the art 
of our poet were based : — 

" Nationality is a good thing to a certain ex- 
tent, hut universality is better. All that is best in 
the great poets of all countries is not what is na- 
tional in them, but what is universal. Their roots 
are in their native soil ; but their branches wave in 
the unpatriotic air that speaks the same language 
to all men, and their leaves shine with the illimita- 
ble light that pervades all lands." 

" A national literature is not the growth of a 
day. Centuries must contribute their dew and sun- 
shine to it. Our own is growing slowly but surely, 
striking its roots downward and its branches up- 
ward, as is natural ; and I do not wish, for the sake 
of what some people call originality, to invert it, 
and try to make it grow with its roots in the air." 

There is a pathetic interest in the conclu- 
sion of " Outre-Mer '' : — 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 75 

" As I write, the melancholy thought intrudes 
upon me, — To what end is all this toil ? Of what 
avail these midnight vigils ? Dost thou covet 
fame ? Vain dreamer ! A few brief days, — and 
what will the busy world know of thee ? Alas ! 
this little book is but a bubble on the stream ; and 
although it may catch the sunshine for a moment, 
yet it will soon float down the swift-rushing cur- 
rent and be seen no more ! " 

The little book might be " a bubble on 
the stream,"' but the poems that were to fol- 
low were to have a popularity and a perma- 
nency in the minds of men which have be- 
longed to few works in any age. 

THE HARVARD PROFESSOR. 

/In 1836 the career of our poet may be 
said to have fairly begun. He came to 
Cambridge and took up his abode at the 
Craigie house, /as it was then called. 1 It 
was built about the year 1759 by Henry 
Vassall, who lies in the Cambridge church- 
yard under a stone bearing as an inscrip- 

1 See Drake's Historic Mansions of Middlesex. 



76 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

tion only a goblet and a sun (Vas-Sol). 1 
A house built by another Vassall is not far 
distant on the same street. The first-named 
house was occupied by Washington as his 
headquarters in the beginning of the Revo- 
lutionary war, having been purchased by the 
Colonial government. Afterwards it became 
the property of Andrew Craigie, who had 
been apothecary-general in the army and 
wealthy at one time, but who was afterwards 
sadly reduced in circumstances. After his 
death his widow let portions of the house to 
lodgers, and among them, at various times, 
besides Longfellow, were President Sparks, 
Edward Everett, and Joseph E. Worcester, 
compiler of the Dictionary. Mrs. Craigie is 
thus sketched by the poet Lowell, in his 
charming essay, " Cambridge Thirty Years 
Ago": — 

" Here long survived him his turbaned widow, 
studious only of Spinoza, and refusing to molest 

1 See reference in Holmes's poem, " The Cambridge Church- 
yard." 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 77 

the canker-worms that annually disleaved her elms, 
because we were all vermicular alike. She had 
been a famous beauty once, but the canker years 
had left her leafless too , and I used to wonder, as 
I saw her sitting always alone at her accustomed 
window, whether she were ever visited by the re- 
proachful shade of him who (in spite of Rosalind) 
died broken-hearted for her in her radiant youth." 

' In 1836 Longfellow was under thirty, 
and an eminently handsome youth. When 
he raised the ponderous knocker, and sum- 
moned Mrs. Craigie, it is no wonder that she 
took the smooth-visaged stranger for an un- 
dergraduate or a divinity student. At his 
request she showed him the house, and point- 
ed out the rooms occupied by Washington. 
When he said, " This is a fine room," or 
afterwards, "I like this also," she replied, 
" Ah, yes ! but you can't have it." And so 
through the house, — " Yes, but you can't 
have it." She prolonged the negations un- 
til Longfellow asked the reason. " Because 
I don't lodge students." " But I am a pro- 



T8 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

fessor ! " That altered the case, and the poet 
was soon installed in the room that had been 
Washington's. This was the somewhat odd 
beginning of a residence that ended only 
with the poet's life. 1 

The house and its occupants will be re- 
ferred to again; but it is proper to quote 
here two passages from " Hyperion" to show 
the deep yet tranquil delight which he en- 
joyed in looking out upon the broad land- 
scape that stretched southward and westward 
from his new home. The opposite field is 
still open to the river, but the view on either 
hand has been cut off in later years by the 
erection of houses. 

" I sit at the open window, .... and hear only 
the voice of the summer wind. Like black hulks, 
the shadows of the great trees ride at anchor 
on the billowy sea of grass. I cannot see the red 

1 During her last sickness Mrs. Craigie one day sent for 
Mr. Longfellow, and, remembering what her brilliant attrac- 
tions had been, said, "Now that you have seen me a shriv- 
elled old woman, you will never marry ! You see what beauty 
comes to at last." 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 81 

and blue flowers, but I know that they are there. 
Far away in the meadow gleams the silver Charles. 
The tramp of horses' hoofs sounds from the wooden 
bridge. Then all is still, save the continuous wind 

of the summer night The village clock 

strikes ; and I feel that I am not alone." 

" I sit here at my pleasant chamber-window, and 
enjoy the balmy air of a bright summer morning, 
and watch the motions of the golden robin, that sits 
on its swinging nest on the outermost pendulous 
branch of yonder elm. The broad meadows and 
the steel-blue river remind me of the meadows of 
Unterseen and the river Aar ; and beyond them 
rise magnificent snow-white clouds piled up like 
Alps. Thus the shades of Washington and William 
Tell seem to walk together on these Elysian Fields ; 
for it was here that, in days long gone, our great 
patriot dwelt ; and yonder clouds so much resemble 
the snowy Alps that they remind me irresistibly of 
the Swiss." 

The house was much visited then and af- 
terwards by the curious, on account of its 
having been the residence of Washington. 
Mr. Longfellow relates that, not many years 



82 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

ago, a plain man with country garb and sol- 
emn manners asked to be shown through the 
house. He went through the historic rooms 
with but few remarks, and those were bu- 
colic in tone and style. The survey had 
been completed, and the poet stood at the 
open door to show the visitor out. " Much 
obleeged ter yer," he said, with steadfast vis- 
age ; — " and who be yer V " My name is 
Longfellow." " Longfeller ? " said the man, 
meditatively. " Any relation to the Long- 
fellers in Woollich, down in Maine ? " " For 
the first time," said the poet (in telling the 
story), " I had a vision of the emptiness of 
fame." 

For seventeen years (and a little more) 
Longfellow discharged the duties of his pro- 
fessorship. The place was by no means a 
sinecure, as he was professor and chief of the 
instructors besides. There were about two 
hundred students, and an average of half a 
dozen instructors (in French, Spanish, Italian, 
and German), and he was expected to over- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 83 

see the work of all. He delivered lectures 
upon the modern languages and literatures, 
and the testimony of all his pupils is that 
they were admirable and helpful ; they were 
not specimens of brilliant rhetoric merely, 
still less the learned dulness of a literary 
annalist. His quick and poetic mind seized 
upon parallel expressions and analogies, and 
enabled him to give the thoughts of foreign 
poets a fair and adequate English dress. 

Mr. Longfellow informed the author that, 
though his lectures were all carefully pre- 
pared, they were seldom or never written, but 
were delivered freely in such words as came 
to mind. 

He commanded the respect and won the 
regard of students to a remarkable degree. 
He was never in the least familiar, but al- 
ways courteous, and retained his influence to 
the last. Some of the most famous of Amer- 
ican scholars are proud to claim Longfellow 
as their guide into pleasant paths. 

Josiah Quincy, a venerable name in our 



84 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

history, was President of Harvard College at 
the time Mr. Longfellow began his duties, 
and remained in office until 1845. He was 
succeeded by Edward Everett, the eminent 
scholar and orator, who occupied the chair 
until 1849, when Jared Sparks, the historian, 
was chosen. Mr. Sparks resigned in 1853, 
and was succeeded by Rev. James Walker, 
who had been previously Professor of Moral 
Philosophy. The member of the Faculty 
with whom Mr. Longfellow was most inti- 
mate in their early years of service was Cor- 
nelius Conway Felton, Professor of Greek. 
Professor Felton was born in Newbury, 
whence the ancestors of Longfellow came. 
Like Longfellow, he had won his honors at 
an early age, having been born in the same 
year, 1807. He was an enthusiast in his 
chosen studies, and he accomplished much 
in many directions, as the cyclopaedias and 
bibliographies show. He became President 
of the College afterwards, but his heart was 
always divided between his beloved Greeks 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 85 

and tlie men who were carrying forward 
the literary work of the day. He assist- 
ed Longfellow in the preparation of "The 
Poets and Poetry of Europe," and wrote 
many of the sketches and estimates of au- 
thors. He was a frequent contributor to 
the North American Review. He was one 
of the original dinner-party of fourteen at 
which the Atlantic Monthly was established. 
On birthday and other decorous festivities he 
always shone. Large in person and in brain, 
with an ardent temperament, perfect good- 
breeding, and unfailing courtesy, he was a 
delightful table companion. His fuller, am- 
pler physical nature seemed to supplement 
the more retiring, self-restrained manner of 
his friend. The twin stars, whose combined 
radiance is brightest, are generally of diverse 
and complementary colors. 

A fragment from Lowell's " Cambridge 
Thirty Years Ago " will give a glimpse of 
the genial Greek Professor. After quoting 
one of Felton's stories, Lowell adds : — 



86 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

" Grecian F. (may his shadow never be less !) 
tells this, his great laugh expected all the while 
from deep vaults of chest, and then coming in at 
the close, hearty, contagious, mounting with the 
measured tread of a jovial butler who brings an- 
cientest good-fellowship from exhaustless bins, and 
enough, without other sauce, to give a flavor of 
stalled ox to a dinner of herbs." 

The exclusive pursuit of scholastic and sci- 
entific studies is often a desiccating process ; 
and the man who can toss the moons of Sat- 
urn for their avoirdupois, or discourse on 
the Kritik of Kant, or annotate the Clouds 
of Aristophanes, is often only an intellectual 
machine. He may be the more perfect ma- 
chine for his self-denial, but he is so much 
the less a well-developed man. Felton was 
one who toiled furiously and long, and then, 
when the time came, was a genial and cloud- 
dispelling talker, accompanying the wisdom 
or wit of the company with a merriment fit 
for Olympus on a holiday. 

Another Cambridge Professor, Andrews 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 87 

Norton, a friend of the great Dr. Channing, 
resembling him in manners and character, 
lived at Shady Hill, a fine estate not very 
far from the College grounds. He was in 
the Divinity School, but had always been 
devoted to general literature, and was one of 
the most accomplished men in the University. 
His hymns are still sung in the churches, and 
are among the few that have real poetic fervor 
as well as Christian spirit. He was a con- 
tributor to the North American Review, and 
was all his life engaged in useful and schol- 
arly work. The visitor to Cambridge to-day, 
calling upon the son and representative of 
the family, Professor Charles Eliot Norton, 
finds a pleasant road leading him a furlong or 
more towards the ample old-fashioned house, 
standing among forest-trees upon a rounded 
knoll. Like Elmwood and the Vassall-Long- 
fellow house, it is one of the places of his- 
toric interest ; and the visitor carries away a 
lasting impression of a very quiet but beau- 
tiful home, where the library, pictures, an- 



88 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

tiques, furniture, and manners belong to- 
gether, and testify to the taste and refinement 
of the occupants. 

At this house Mr. Longfellow was a fre- 
quent visitor, especially before his second 
marriage in 1843, and was more intimate 
with the family than with any in Cambridge. 

SUCCESS. 

The fame of Longfellow is the growth of 
half a century, but his first volumes were de- 
cisive as to the place he was to hold. When 
the " Voices of the Night" (1839) and " Bal- 
lads " (1841) had come to the notice of the 
public, there was an impression as of a new 
planet lengthening the twilight. There was 
in the poems a soft radiance, serene and con- 
soling. All classes felt it. The philosopher 
saw in their holy tranquillity and perfect 
trust the equivalent for the best outcome of 
his learning ; and the hearts of the unlettered 
poor were drawn unconsciously to the divine 
harmonies that made them forget their sor- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 89 

rows. Whatever poetry had before this time 
dazzled the world, it may be questioned if 
ever in the same space there had come to the 
hearts of men so many sweet and tender as- 
sociations, so many lessons of courage and 
patience, so many consolations for the strick- 
en and afflicted. It is not solery their rare 
poetic beauty, their melodious flow, their 
perfect expression that charm us ; it is their 
supreme and universal sway over the noblest 
emotions. There is not one of the "Voices 
of the Night" that is not familiar as house- 
hold words. The lines and phrases pass cur- 
rent in fragments of quotation. The ideas 
and metrical forms are as unmistakable as 
doxologies or proverbs. The solemn mon- 
otone of the " Psalm of Life" was heard 
around the world. "The Beleaguered City," 
"Footsteps of Angels," "The Light of Stars," 
and " Flowers," have a spiritual as well as 
an earthly beauty. They are a gospel of 
good-will in music. It does not matter how 
often they are sung or intoned ; it does not 



90 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

matter that the alert mind of the hearer flies 
before the reader along the well-known, shin- 
ing track of the verse. These poems, and 
others in the succeeding volumes like them, 
are our heart treasures. We refuse criti- 
cism and comparison with the works of other 
poets. They are our and our children's in- 
heritance. They are wholly without parallel 
in our day in the quality of touching and 
elevating the moral nature. 

Upon these few and simple Voices and 
upon the few striking Ballads the fame of 
almost any poet might safely rest. They 
must appeal with undiminished force to the 
coming generations ; just as the vicissitudes 
of this mortal life, — marriage, motherhood, 
death, — though forever repeated, yet touch 
each soul when its turn comes with a rapture 
or an agony as intense as if the experience 
of the hour had befallen it first in the his- 
tory of creation. 

And these lovely Voices and stirring Bal- 
lads in one respect exhibit the finest qualities 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 91 

of Longfellow's genius. They are almost the 
earliest of the half-century of vintages, and 
most racy of their native soil. 

"The Wreck of the Hesperus" is deserv- 
edly admired, especially for the vigor of its 
descriptions. It is in truth a ballad such as 
former centuries knew and which are seldom 
written now. Its free movement, directness, 
and pictorial power combine to make it one 
of the most remarkable of the author's poems. 
Observe the force of this stanza : — 

l( The breakers were right beneath her bows, 
She drifted a dreary wreck, 
And a whooping billow swept the crew 
Like icicles from her deck." 

Or this : — 

"The salt sea was frozen on her breast, 
The salt tears in her eyes ; 
And he saw her hair like the brown sea-weed 
On the billows fall and rise." 

" The Skeleton in Armor" is perhaps the 
most purely imaginative of all our poet's con- 
ceptions. The various related pictures are 



92 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

done with clear strokes and finished with 
perfect art. It is the soul of a Viking that 
chants, to the accompaniment of the shrill 
north-wind and the ceaseless roar of waves. 
The most consummate master of poetic art 
could scarce change a line or an epithet. 

There is good reason for dwelling some- 
what upon the qualities of the two thin vol- 
umes of 1839 and 1841, because they had 
immediate recognition as the product of a 
new force in literature, and because they il- 
lustrate within a small compass the qualities 
of his genius and the mastery of his art. It 
is far from the present writer's purpose to 
attempt to conduct the reader through the 
successive volumes with tedious and super- 
fluous comment. 

An interesting reminiscence from the pen 
of the late James T. Fields 1 may be prop- 
erly quoted here. 

1 It is greatly to be lamented that Mr. Fields Jbad not 
lived to write out and publish the many anecdotes of Long- 
fellow which had come to him during his long and intimate 
acquaintance with the poet. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 93 

44 The 4 Psalm of Life ' came into existence on a 
bright summer morning in July, 1838, in Cam- 
bridge, as the poet sat between two windows, at 
a small table, in the corner of his chamber. It 
was a voice from his inmost heart, and he kept it 
unpublished a long time ; it expressed his own feel- 
ings at that time, when recovering from a deep 
affliction, and he hid it in his own heart for many 
months. The poem of 4 The Reaper and the 
Flowers ' came without effort, crystallized into his 
mind. 4 The Light of Stars ' was composed on a 
serene and beautiful summer evening, exactly sug- 
gestive of the poem. 4 The Wreck of the Hes- 
perus ' was written the night after a violent storm 
had occurred, and as the poet sat smoking his 
pipe the Hesperus came sailing into his mind ; 
he went to bed, but could not sleep, and rose and 
wrote the celebrated verses. The poem hardly 
caused him an effort, but flowed on without let or 
hindrance. On a summer afternoon in 1839, as he 
was riding on the beach, 4 The Skeleton in Ar- 
mor ' rose, as out of the deep, before him, and would 
not be laid. One of the best known of all Long- 
fellow's shorter poems is 4 Excelsior.' That one 
word happened to catch his eye one autumn even- 
ing in 1841, on a torn piece of newspaper, and 



94 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

straightway his imagination took fire at it. Tak- 
ing up a piece of paper, which happened to be the 
back of a letter received that day from Charles 
Sumner, he crowded it with verses. As first writ- 
ten down, 4 Excelsior ' differs from the perfected 
and published version, but it shows a rush and 
glow worthy of its author." 1 

Two years later came " The Spanish Stu- 
dent," a play for the closet rather than the 
stage, with a well conceived, if not wholly 
original plot, natural and living characters, 
and containing lines and passages of unmis- 
takable poetical merit. This appears to have 
been almost the only diversion our poet ever 
allowed himself, unless we except certain 
scenes in " The Wayside Inn," and the frol- 
ics of the monks in " The Golden Legend." 
Longfellow's was a bright, cheery, and lov- 
able nature, but he was never a leader in 
mirth. His ready smile and quick glance 
of intelligence showed how he felt the point 
of wit ; but he was generally a pleased 

1 Boston Daily Globe, March 25, 1882. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 95 

spectator rather than an actor in such en- 
counters. 

"The Spanish Student" is saturated with 
the national qualities, and its perfect keep- 
ing shows how thoroughly the poet had 
studied the popular traits, which remain so 
quaint, picturesque, and enduring. It is a 
gay and often brilliant picture of the man- 
ners of a remarkable people. It is a fair 
complement to the high solemnity of Man- 
rique's poem, and is likely to be long en- 
joyed ; but it has not the invention, the 
blazing wit, or the unexpected turns that 
mark comedies of the highest rank. 



ANTISLAVERY POEMS. 

The " Poems on Slavery," published in 
the same year, show Longfellow in another 
light. In 1843 the public sentiment of the 
United States, guided by politicians, cotton- 
spinners, and bankers, was almost wholly in 
favor of a great national wrong. To keep 



96 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

humanitarian ideas out of politics, to con- 
tinue manufactures with profit, and to bind 
the people together in successful business, 
leaving- morals out, was the aim of legisla- 
tors and leaders. The voices of Channing, 
Garrison, Jay, and Sumner were unheard or 
scorned. The warnings and weighty coun- 
sels of Jefferson had been forgotten. The 
Union was a pyramid whose lower strata 
were crushed human hearts. The pulpit 
and the press were silent, if not openly fa- 
vorable to the continuance of the nation's 
shame and curse. 

Longfellow published his poems, full of 
indignant feeling, yet tempered by Christian 
charity, and so gave the great influence of 
his name to the despised cause. " The Slave 
singing at Midnight" and "The Quadroon 
Girl" produced a strong impression. But 
the stanza most frequently quoted was the 
last one of "The Warning." Read now in 
the light of later events, it sounds strangely 
prophetic : — 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 97 

" There is a poor, blind Samson in this land, 

Shorn of his strength and bound in bonds of steel, 
Who may, in some grim revel, raise his hand, 
And shake the pillars of this Commonweal, 
Till the vast Temple of our liberties 
A shapeless mass of wreck and rubbish lies." 

A man of Longfellow's quiet, scholarly 
habits and refined taste could not have been 
an agitator. The bold denunciation of a 
Boanerges would ill have befitted his lips. 
He would have felt out of place upon the 
platform of an antislavery meeting. But his 
influence, though quiet, was pervasive, and 
it was a comfort to many earnest men to 
know that the first scholars and poets were 
in sympathy with their hopes, their prayers 
and labors. 

Among the most eminent of the Aboli- 
tionists was Ralph Waldo Emerson, and the 
friendship between him and our poet begun 
at an early date. Certain critics who would 
like to disparage Longfellow have been in 
the habit of applying to his verses an Em- 
ersonian or transcendental test, as if there 

7 



98 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

were a natural antagonism between Cam- 
bridge and Concord. But this is a mode of 
warfare that belongs to the subalterns : be- 
tween our poet and the great philosopher 
there have always existed the warmest per- 
sonal relations and the most solid regard. 
Between men truly great, however diverse 
in genius, the narrowness that insists upon 
likeness has no place. Upon abstruse and 
especially moral topics Mr. Emerson was a 
natural leader. He did not argue up to 
propositions. He calmly announced them, 
like a seer or prophet. Though Garrison 
was the moving spirit of the antislavery 
party, Emerson was the Nestor, the intel- 
lectual head of it. 

Longfellow had been intimate also with 
Dr. Channing, as his poetical tribute shows. 

Another devoted friend, destined afterwards 
to advance the standard of freedom, was 
Charles Sumner. While still a very young 
man, hardly one-and-twenty, he had pro- 
posed to himself a career, and had bent all 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 99 

the powers of his active and powerful mind 
to prepare himself for it. The preparation of 
a " statesman " in later days is sometimes 
of a different nature. Mr. Sumner was igno- 
rant of all the arts of politics. He merely 
studied law, treaties, history, and ethics, that 
he might fit himself to be a legislator. His 
reading covered a wide field, and the knowl- 
edge he had was always at command. Per- 
haps his learning was sometimes oppressive 
to himself, like the Roman soldier's outfit, 
which got the name of impedimenta. Those 
who took their learning at second hand — 
quoting from quoters — considered him pe- 
dantic ; and it must be said that the time 
for formal orations was going by, and the 
time for actual debate had not come. It is 
not likely that Demosthenes could turn a 
vote to-day in the House of Commons ; and 
Cicero would be badgered into confusion in 
the first ten minutes of an exordium before 
our Congress. Somewhat too stately and too 
full of quotation as Mr. Sumner's speeches 



100 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

are, they are full of vital thought and en- 
ergy, and in their completeness cover the 
whole field of argument. They and their 
author belong to history. It was over forty 
years ago that Mr. Sumner became an ac- 
quaintance, and then a friend ; and he was 
for a long time in the habit of dining with 
Longfellow every Sunday. The writer re- 
members frequently seeing Sumner's tall 
figure, in a cloak, striding over Cambridge 
Bridge, or riding part of the way, with knees 
drawn up, in the long, old-fashioned coaches. 
His face, which was naturally stern, had a 
pleasant smile as he spoke of ihe anticipated 
pleasure. Like the bottles in the poet's gay 
verses to Agassiz, Mr. Sumner's smiles seemed 
to say, " I am to dine with Longfellow.'' In 
Longfellow's study Sumner's youthful por- 
trait in crayon, by Eastman Johnson, hangs 
with the portraits of Felton, Hawthorne, and 
Emerson, done by the same artist. How 
young they all look ! Charming faces, with 
no prefiguring of destiny in their calm eyes. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 101 

The attachment was mutual and sincere, and 
readers may see the expression of it in the 
poem " Three Friends of Mine." 

These friendships are merely touched upon 
at this point to show Longfellow's clear re- 
lation to the antislavery cause and to some 
of its ablest and most scholarly representa- 
tives. 

It is proper to add, that many of Longfel- 
low's poems had a profound purpose and sig- 
nificance not always suspected by readers. 
" The Arsenal at Springfield " is one of his 
most splendid productions, and by most it is 
admired as a poem only. But it becomes 
historic when we remember that Sumner had 
lately delivered the great oration in Boston 
on " The True Grandeur of Nations," (July 
4, 1845,) in which he inveighed against the 
wickedness of war as a means of settling 
national disputes ; and that soon after came 
this noble, almost inspired poem, with its 
vivid picture of war's desolations and its holy 
prophecy of peace. 



102 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

" Down the dark future, through long generations, 
The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease ; 
And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, 
I hear once more the voice of Christ say, ' Peace ! ' 

" Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals 

The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies! 
But beautiful as songs of the immortals, 
The holy melodies of love arise." 

HIS SECOND MARRIAGE. 

a Hyperion," in some respects, gives the 
history of the poet's inner life. Panl Flem- 
ming begins his tour under the shadow of 
a great sorrow. The wife of his youth, the 
"Being Beauteous,'' with her infant, lay in 
the churchyard, and the husband and father 
felt the bereavement with an intensity of 
grief which only such delicate natures can 
know. But after a time there was a change. 
Grief had chastened the poet, but had not 
left him in despair. He was still young, and 
before him might be supposed to lie a long 
road to be traversed, — with new duties to be 
done, new achievements, new hopes, and the 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 103 

exceeding great reward of faithful love. In 
this mood he met a lady who in the story is 
called Mary Ashburton. and, becoming inter- 
ested at first, is in the end passionately de- 
voted to her. She is drawn w r ith admirable 
lines, and becomes a real person to the reader. 
Her beauty, her accomplishments, her family 
pride, all naturally become her, as an Eng- 
lishwoman ; and in her impenetrable reserve 
we see a disastrous ending for the poet's ear- 
nest suit. 

The original of this brilliant portrait was 
Miss Frances Elizabeth Appleton, daughter 
of Nathan Appleton, a distinguished citizen 
of Boston. Her surviving brother is Mr. 
Thomas Gold Appleton, a well-known au- 
thor and a connoisseur in art. She was in- 
deed possessed of every grace of mind and 
person that could charm the soul of a poet. 
Her remarkable beauty was fitly accompa- 
nied by a serene dignity of manner ; and it 
may be added that, later, as a matron, she 
was even more beautiful than in her fresh 



104 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

youth. With her children about her she 
looked a proud Cornelia. Among the many 
memorable persons who during the genera- 
tions dwelt in the Vassall house, the name 
and lovely presence of this admirable woman 
come first to mind. 

The precise time at which Mr. Longfellow 
met Miss Appleton is not important. The 
romance was published in 1839, and it em- 
braces necessarily an antecedent experience. 
The rejection of Paul Flemming's suit was 
possibly true ; but it is known that, what- 
ever final decision Mary Ashburton in the 
story may have come to, Miss Appleton 
cherished a deep regard for her suitor, 
and the intimacy gradually ripened into 
love. Their marriage took place in 1843, 
when our poet was in his thirty-sixth year. 
He purchased the Vassall-Craigie house, 
and from that time forward it was his 
home. 

Five children were the offspring of this 
marriage, — two sons, and three daughters. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 105 

Ernest W. Longfellow, the eldest, is an emi- 
nent artist. Charles Aj^pleton Longfellow 
served for two years as a captain of cavalry 
in our late civil war. Edith, the second 
daughter, is married to Richard H. Dana, 
third of the name, grandson of the poet and 
son of the eminent lawyer and publicist who 
wrote "Two Years Before the Mast." The 
other daughters, Alice and Anna, remain at 
home, and are unmarried. The three daujrh- 
ters were painted in a group by the late 
T. Buchanan Read, artist and poet both, and 
the picture is well known to the public by 
engravings and photographs. 

Of the exceeding beauty of the Longfellow 
home much has been written. The reader 
remembers the poet's reference to the former 
majestic occupant : — 

" Once, ah, once, within these walls, 
One whom memory oft recalls, 
The Father of his Country, dwelt. 
And yonder meadows broad and damp 
The fires of the besieging camp 
Encircled with a burning belt. 



106 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

Up and down these echoing stairs, 
Heavy with the weight of cares, 
Sounded his majestic tread ; 
Yes, within this very room 
Sat he in those hours of gloom, 
Weary both in heart and head." 

The grounds are large and set with fine 
trees, with open vistas intervening. The 
children had a fresh country air and space 
for rambles. The house is at a suitable dis- 
tance from the street, and there is an atmos- 
phere of quiet seldom seen so near a great 
city. The poet had his rooms and his hours, 
and while the family could enjoy their per- 
fect freedom, the size of the house and the 
admirable domestic arrangements left the 
master leisure and liberty to pursue his man- 
ifold studies and to fashion his poetical crea- 
tions. 

In this as in many other respects Long- 
fellow was exceedingly fortunate. Poverty, 
narrow accommodations, noise and illness, are 
enough at times to disenchant even a genius ; 
and many an aspiration has been stifled, 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 109 

many a work of art injured in its progress, 
by the annoying surrounding's in which it 
was wrought. 80 far as human power can 
judge, Longfellow was in the Lest possible 
situation for the development of his powers. 
He had had the best training which was pos- 
sible at the time, and he had used every op- 
portunity ; he had never known the distress 
of poverty or sickness ; he had been able to 
accumulate rare books, and to feast upon the 
art of Europe. 

It has been previously mentioned that 
Charles Sumner was a very intimate friend 
of Longfellow, and it may be pleasant to see 
the references in his letters to the happy 
marriage. Writing to John Jay, at New York, 
May 25, 1843, Mr. Sumner says: — 

" You will probably find Longfellow a married 
man, for he is now engaged to Miss Fannie 
Appleton, the Mary Ashburton of 4 Hyperion,' 
a lady of the greatest sweetness, imagination, 
and elevation of character, with striking personal 
charms." 



110 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

August 13, 1843 ? lie writes from Boston 
to Greorsre W. Greene : — 

" You will find dear Longfellow married to the 
beautiful and most lovely Mary Asbburton. They 
were married on July 18. They will rejoice to 
see you. They will linger among her friends in 
Berkshire until Saturday, August 19, when they 
will return to Cambridge, and she will commence 
her life as JProfessortnn." 

To Professor Mittermaier of Heidelberg, 
Germany, Mr. Sumner wrote : — 

" You have heard of the happiness of Longfellow, 
who is married to a most beautiful lady, possessing 
every attraction of character and intelligence." 

To Dr. Francis Lieber, Jan. 6, 1843 : — 

" You complain that L.'s friends will spoil him 
by praise. You little know the sternness with 
which his friends judge his works before they are 
published." 

To the same, July 13, 1843 : — 

" I do not think it essential that the first poets 
of an age should write war odes. Our friend has 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH '. Ill 

a higher calling, and it is Longfellow's chief virtue 
to have apprehended it. His poetry does not rally 
to battle, but it affords succor and strength to bear 
the ills of life. There are six or seven pieces of 
his Car superior, as it seems to me, to anything I 
know of Uhland or Korner, — - calculated to do more 
good, — to touch the soul to finer issues; pi< 
that will live to be worn near the hearts of men 
when the thrilling war-notes of Campbell and 

Korner will be forgotten I would rather be 

the author of 'A Psalm of Life,' 'The Light of 
Stars, 1 'The Reaper, 1 and 'Excelsior, 1 than of 
those rich pieces of Gray. I think Longfellow 
without a rival near his tin one in America. I 
might go further : I doubt if there is any poet now 
alive, and not older than he, who has written so 

much and SO well Longfellow is to be happy 

for a fortnight in the shades of Cambridge, then to 
visit his wile's friends in Berkshire, then his own 
in Portland." 

POETS AND POETRY OP EUROPE. 

For nearly two years Mr. Longfellow de- 
voted himself to the work of presenting to 
English readers a view of the poetry of con- 



112 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

temporary nations. As was intimated before, 
he was assisted by Ids friend, Professor Fel- 
ton. This collection includes nearly four 
hundred pieces, translated from ten different 
languages. Mr. Longfellow wrote the intro- 
ductions, and made many of the translations. 
Some of the latter are acknowledged, but 
many of them are anonymous. Mr. Long- 
fellow said to the writer, that among many 
narrow-minded persons the notion of a trans- 
lation was that of job-work, requiring no 
original power ; and as he had published a 
considerable number in former volumes, he 
thought it not best to put his name to all 
the versions he had made. He thought that 
a certain kind of depreciation followed a 
translator, and he did not care to give any 
more occasion for ill-natured remark than 
was necessary. It is to be hoped that 
memoranda exist by which the extent of 
our obligations to him may be known here- 
after. 

Grammarians tell us that nice points in the 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 113 

structure of sentences are never apprehended 
by a student in any one language ; it is only 
when two reflections of the same thought are 
shown, as in a duplex mirror, that there is a 
perfect appreciation of a stereoscopic effect. 
Similarly it is so in poetry. To give an 
actual equivalent of a great poem in another 
language, with its weight of thought, its al- 
lusions, images, rhythm, and its after-sugges- 
tiveness, requires a poet hardly, if at all, in- 
ferior to the original maker. 

It was far from "job-work" to make the 
noble volume referred to. Doubtless the 
work had been in mind for many years, and 
the pilgrim of Outre-Mer and the hero of 
Hyperion had been silently accumulating the 
wealth of materials. 

THE BELFRY OF BRUGES. 

A year later (1846) appeared two thin vol- 
umes of selected poetry, entitled " The Waif" 
and "The Estray," now very scarce and much 
sought by collectors. The proem to the first, 



114 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, 

" The Day is Done," &c, is perhaps as wide- 
ly popular as any production of our poet ; 
and, with the exception of the comparison in 
the last lines of the first stanza, it is one of 
great merit. It is a charming' poem, sooth- 
ing in tone, full of noble images, and not 
above the comprehension of average readers. 
Musical people cannot but regret that it has 
been so long associated with the vapid and 
commonplace melody written for it by Balfe. 
Probably no stanza has been so universally 
quoted as the concluding one of this poem : — 

"Arid the night shall be filled with music, 
And the cares that infest the clay 
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, 
And as silently steal away." 

In the same year was published "The Bel- 
fry of Bruges, and Other Poems," a volume 
whose general tone corresponds with the 
"Voices of the Night" and the "Ballads," 
and which had the effect of widening the cir- 
cle of the poet's fame. Whatever may come 
afterwards, the reader may surely pause here 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 115 

to dwell upon these poems, confident that 
nothing more characteristic, more full of de- 
lightful associations, is to come. The poet 
has grown stronger, and paints with more 
decisive lines. The pictures of Bruges, and 
of Nuremberg, the mediaeval museum and 
memorial of Albert Diirer, are full of life 
and color. 

But the gem of the volume is " The Ar- 
senal at Springfield," a poetical complement 
to Sumner's " True Grandeur of Nations," a 
series of magnificent images wrought with 
surpassing art. It is a poem of high rank, if 
not the highest, and any great English poet, 
living or dead, might have been proud to 
acknowledge it. 

" The Old Clock on the Stairs," in the 
same volume, is one of the fortunate poems 
which have become a part of the domestic 
life and love of a generation. The " old- 
fashioned country seat" in which the clock 
stood was the house of the poet's father-in- 
law, at Pittsfield, Mass. ; and the beautiful 



116 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 



clock, which is now in the possession of Mr. 
T. Gr. Appleton, of Boston, continues serenely 
ticking, 



1 




Ton jours! 

mat 
Jamais! 



jamais ! 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 117 

CRITICISM. 

But If. is time to consider some of the trials 
as well as the pleasures of the poet's life. Jf 
the friends of Longfellow were inclined to 
spoil him with praise, there was a sharp cor- 
rective ready to be administered by Poo. 

Although there is at present a feeling of 
friendship between the literati of Now York 
and New England, there was a time, some 
thirty or forty years ago, when there was no 
affection wasted. The beginning or new 
birth of literature in America was nearly 
contemporaneous in New fork and Boston; 
although the earliest of our successful modern 
authors was a New-Yorker. Before the days 
of railroads there was far less intercourse than 
now, and the two cities were for all purposes 
as far apart as Paris and Berlin. 

Longfellow, whose travels had been almost 
always in Europe, visited New York seldom. 
The reader remembers, doubtless, a very 
large and singularly bad engraving, former- 



118 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

ly very commonly seen, entitled " Washing- 
ton Irving and his Friends." Among Massa- 
chusetts authors were represented Prescott, 
with an inane expression, Holmes, a wretched 
burlesque, and Longfellow, with a pleasant, 
dandyish air and hyacinthine locks. These, 
witli Bancroft, Emerson, and others, were 
grouped about the central figure, Irving, who 
was made to look like a successful tallow- 
chandler. It was a picture to put one in a 
rage for destruction. Now in truth Longfel- 
low met Irving in Spain in 1827, while the 
latter was there writing his Columbus, and 
never saw him afterwards. There was al- 
ways a pleasant feeling, but no intimacy. 
They did not happen to come together. So 
with regard to Bryant ; Longfellow met him 
about the year 1830, once. Afterwards, in 
1836, the two poets met and had a friendly 
conversation at Heidelberg. They never met 
again. 

It may be inferred that the lesser writers 
of New York had seen Longfellow still less. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 119 

So when Poe in " The Broadway Journal " 
(also in Graham's Magazine) opened his bat- 
teries upon our poet, it appeared much like 
a shot from a foreign camp. But it may be 
added, that scarcely any eminent writer of the 
last generation escaped an attack from him. 
He cherished for Boston, New England, and 
the North, a pure and quenchless flame of 
hatred. He had certain theories of art which 
he assumed to be axiomatic. He measured 
modern poems by the classic mete-wands, 
oblivious of the fact that English syllables 
have no radical character of long and short, 
and that any exact reproduction of the clas- 
sic metres is impossible. He declared that 
a poem which could not be read at a sit- 
ting was no poem, — a decision that rules 
out nearly every production which the world 
agrees to call great. His sense of melody in 
verse was, no doubt, exquisite, and he pleased 
himself so much with the satin surfaces of 
things that the meaning beneath was of less 
moment. If he illustrated metres or asso- 



120 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

nances, his own verses were often the chosen 
examples. One can see that he petted his 
own creations, and loved to turn them in va- 
rious lights to display their sheen. As an 
instance of the possibilities of language he 
used to quote in his critical papers, 

" And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain," 

— a line for a sentimental milliner. 

To show his temper and his sense of jus- 
tice a few paragraphs are quoted. When 
Hawthorne's " Twice Told Tales " was pub- 
lished, — a volume that no other living man 
could have written, — Poe said : " The fact is, 
that, if Mr. Hawthorne were really original, 
he could not fail of making himself felt by 
the public. But the fact is he is not original 
in any sense." Poe admits that there is a 
sense of newness in Hawthorne, but says it 
comes from an imitation of Tieck. He quotes 
a passage from " Howe's Masquerade," and 
attempts to show that it was copied from his 
own " William Wilson." His advice to Haw- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 121 

thorne at the conclusion of his review is 
characteristic : " Let him mend his pen, get 
a bottle of visible ink, cut Mr. Alcott, hang 
(if possible) the editor of l The Dial/ and 
throw out of the window to the pigs all his 
odd numbers of the North American Re- 
view." He recommends a new motto for the 
North American, altered from Sterne: "As 
we rode along the valley, we saw a herd of 
asses on the top of one of the mountains, — 
how they viewed and reviewed us." He else- 
where mentions " the cultivated old clergy- 
men of the North American Review"; — 
" that ineffable buzzard, the North American 
Review"; and "the Fabian family, who live 
(upon beans) about Boston." He has only a 
sneer for Emerson, as an imitator of Carlyle. 
His warmest words are for Amelia B. Wel- 
by, a writer of a school that has passed away. 
Mrs. Welby's verse was melodious, full of 
bright adjectives and epithets, sweet, sensu- 
ous, and melancholy by turns, and about as 
real as muslin flowers or a stage cascade. It 



122 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

was enough for Poe that her poems were ac- 
cording to the canons he had laid down. In 
his own poems (it may be added) the super- 
ficial glamour and the tricks of syllabification 
were the fleeting charm. In "The Raven" 
there is no substratum of feeling. A man 
who is really haunted by remorse would not 
remark " the silken sad uncertain rustling " 
of anything ; nor would there be any sugges- 
tion to such a soul in the iterated refrain, 

" Quoth the raven, Nevermore." 

This is not remorse, still less repentance. 
There is not a line in the poem that might 
not have been written by Mephistopheles 
while waiting for Faust and Margaret in the 
garden. It was the fashion forty years ago 
to play sentiment, and nearly all the " poets" 
of America were doing it, from Poe and Mrs. 
Welby downward. 

*^The weight of Poe's wrath fell upon Long- 
fellow. For an Ishmael, such as lie was, it 
was enough that Longfellow was beloved in 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 123 

Boston, and that he was becoming the most 
popular poet in the language. If he had 
been the sole assailant, the attack would have 
been less formidable. But the views of the 
extreme transcendental school were almost as 
hostile as Poe's, although for different rea- 
sons. The transcendentalists thought they 
had risen above the concrete into the do- 
main of the abstract, not to say the abso- 
lute. Poetry that dealt with the aspects of 
nature, or with any outward affairs, was for 
them an A B C book. For them poetry must 
consist of sonorous enigmas, Orphic sayings, 
sententious nothings. 

But every true poet rests on the natural 
world first. He may aspire, or soar at times, 
but he cannot take upon himself the charac- 
ter and functions of a bodiless intelligence. 
Somewhere between heaven and earth is the 
poet's sphere. While mortality endures, its 
natural incidents must affect all men, and 
the poet most of all. But some of the tran- 
scendentalists were impatient with all those 



124 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

who did not bestride broomsticks and sail 
away moonwards. Longfellow, though es- 
teemed by them as a man, was not their poet. 
Their feeling against him was not expressed 
in print, but of its existence there is no doubt. 
The writer well remembers the current talk 
among disciples of this school in Boston, in 
1852, and afterwards. It is therefore not as- 
tonishing to read in one of Poe's diatribes the 
statement that Margaret Fuller called Long- 
fellow "a booby," and Lowell "a wretched 
poetaster." Mr. F. B. Sanborn mentions that 
she called Longfellow "a dandy Pindar." 

We will give a few specifications from 
Poe's indictment of Longfellow as a plagi- 
arist. 

He collates at length the " Midnight Mass 
for the Dying Year " with Tennyson's " The 
Death of the Old Year." But the reader sees 
that the verbal resemblances are slight, and 
every one knows that the personification of 
the Old Year as a dying man is as old as 
mankind. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 125 

He quotes a scene from " The Spanish Stu- 
dent," and then one from his own drama, 
" Politian," alleging that Longfellow had 
copied from him. The only feature in com- 
mon is that in each scene there is a lady 
with a servant, and that the lady's read- 
ing is interrupted by occasional comment. 
There is not the least resemblance be- 
tween the passages, either in thought or 
diction. 

He avers that Longfellow stole from Bry- 
ant's " Thanatopsis " the closing lines of his 
"Autumn"; that he took from Sir Philip 
Sidney the saying, " Look into thy heart and 
write "; that the image of the heart's " beat- 
ing funeral marches to the grave " is from 
Henry King, Bishop of Chichester. 

Poe's review of "The Spanish Student" 
contains a number of excerpts which are of 
themselves sufficient evidence of Longfel- 
low's poetical power and skill. He there- 
upon proceeds to tear the plot as flimsy, and 
to depreciate the general tone as borrowed 



126 HENEY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

from Cervantes, and he "regrets" that Long- 
fellow wrote it. 

In the review of the "Ballads/' he says 
that Longfellow's skill is great and his ideal- 
ity high, but that his conception of the aims 
of poesy is all wrong. Poetry, according to 
Poe, is " the creation of novel moods of 
beauty in form, in color, in sound, and in 
sentiment." " If a thought can be expressed 
in prose it is no theme for poetry." We can 
commend these statements without qualifica- 
tion, and at the same time claim that " The 
Village Blacksmith," "The Wreck of the 
Hesperus," and " The Skeleton in Armor," 
are eminent examples of " novel forms of 
beauty" in all respects. 

He objects to the translations, — especially 
to those in hexameter measure, concerning 
which something is said elsewhere. 

In the " Marginalia" Poe states the case of 
a detected pickpocket, and then says, "It is 
impossible, we should think, to imagine a 
more sickening spectacle than that of the 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 127 

plagiarist who walks among mankind with 
an erecter step, and who feels his heart beat 
with a prouder impulse, on account of plau- 
dits which he is conscious are the due of 
another." 

Elsewhere he says that Longfellow is " the 
most audacious imitator in America." But he 
makes il no charge of moral delinquency " ; 
surely not, after the parallel with the pick- 
pocket ! With a sudden gleam of good sense, 
he declares that " All literary history de- 
monstrates that for the most frequent and 
palpable plagiarisms we must search the 
works of the most eminent poets." 

Emerson says that great geniuses are the 
most indebted men. Burton in his " Anat- 
omy of Melancholy " speaks of writers " who 
compound books as apothecaries compound 
medicines, pouring out of old bottles into 
new ones." The wisdom of mankind lies in 
scattered sayings of far away or unknown 
origin. " Art is long and time is fleet- 
ing " is from the Greek. Such fragments are 



128 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

the property of any man who aptly uses 
them. 

" Though old the thought and oft exprest, 
J T is his at last who says it best." 

Milton's obligations to Dante, to Fletcher, and 
others, are well known. The idea of the line, 

" And aery tongues that syllable men's names," 

is from Marco Polo's travels. He was a royal 
borrower, but the gold he took was stamped 
with his own imag^e, and made his own for- 
ever. Shakespeare laid the whole world 
under contribution, but wdiat characteristic 
line of his own could be imitated ? Scott's 
most beautiful imagery came from the old 
ballads he had been nourished upon. The 
pretty couplet, 

" E'en the light harebell raised its head 
Elastic from her airy tread," 

is from an old poet. Some of the finest 
touches in Tennyson are from Theocritus. 
Lowell's happy simile, 

" A]l ways to once her feelins flew, 
Like sparks in burnt-up paper," 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 129 

came (unconsciously, perhaps) from a play- 
ful sentence in a letter from Banister to Dean 
Swift. But to multiply instances would be 
attempting to give the history and pedigree 
of poetical ideas and images. 1 

In Longfellow's youth the treasures of 
German literature might be said to have 
been just discovered. The treasures them- 
selves, though rich and unique, are not old. 
' Longfellow collected the poetry of Europe, 
translating parts of it himself; and it is natu- 
ral that his memory should have been stored 
with the thoughts of congenial minds. The 
talk of "receptivity" is nonsense. Every 
man is receptive in proportion to his reading 
and knowledge. Excejrting Goethe, and per- 
haps Schiller, there was none of them more 
original and suggestive than himself; and if 
he borrowed, he communicated as well. It 
has been mentioned that he had been a stu- 

1 For a large and curious collection of poetical imitations 
and resemblances, see Disraeli's Curiosities of Literature, Vol. 
II. p. 260. 



130 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

dent of scenery and of historic incidents in 
his foreign travels ; and his own reminis- 
cences, together with the memories of the 
foreign poems which he had given to the 
world, must have formed a wonderful store 
of thought and incident for his own use. 
Is not the world richer thereby ? Is not 
the poet himself more affluent, more full of 
resource, possessed of more varied power 1 
In certain authors the individuality is so 
strong that it is a limitation. Many a pop- 
ular poet has drawn all his inspiration and 
devoted all his powers to the little spot that 
gave him birth. Such poems may be full of 
genius, and yet after a time pall by reason 
of sameness. Who could endure a concert 
in which every piece was written and per- 
formed in one key ? / Laying aside other 
data of comparison, it must be admitted that 
there is not to be found in the works of any 
other poet such a variety, both as regards 
themes and treatment, as in the cycle of 

Longfellow's poems./ Of one we may say he 

/ 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 131 

is intensely English, or that he is Scotch to 
the marrow; of another, that he has the 
soul of a Puritan, or the imagination of a 
German, or the gayety and wit of a French- 
man ; but it is only of Longfellow we can 
say that his genius disregards geographical 
boundaries, is bound to the traditions of no 
one race, and with universal sympathy has 
dissolved and assimilated the poetry of our 
time. He alone is entitled to be called the 
poet of humanit}^./ 

Time has settled this controversy. " The 
Raven" and the few other poems of that 
brilliant and erratic genius will be remem- 
bered, but his shallow and spiteful criticism 
of Longfellow and Hawthorne will be read 
only by the curious in literary history. It 
has been often said that Poe was as great a 
critic as poet, and there are passages in his 
works which show great acumen and origi- 
nality of view. But justice is the basis °of 
criticism, or should be ; and a man of Poe's 
temper and principles could never be just. 



132 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

He might deal fairly and tenderly by poets 
over whose graves the daisies were growing ; 
bnt he conld not control his jealousy and his 
sectional feeling with regard to prosperous 
authors still living as rivals in public favor. 

William Winter, whose youth was passed 
in Cambridge, has given a characteristic pic- 
ture of the placid manner of Longfellow, 
when conversing upon the same topic. Mr. 
Winter says: — 

" For the infirmities of humanity he was charity 
itself, and he shrank from harshness as from a posi- 
tive sin. ' It is the prerogative of the poet,' he 
once said to me, in those old days, 4 to give pleas- 
ure; but it is the critic's province to give pain.' 
He had, indeed, but a slender esteem for the critic's 
province. Yet his tolerant nature found excuses 
for even as virulent and hostile a critic as his assail- 
ant and traducer, Edgar -Allan Poe, — of whom I 
have heard him speak with genuine pity. His 
words were few and unobtrusive, and they clearly 
indicated his consciousness that Poe had grossly 
abused and maligned him ; but instead of resent- 
ment for injury, they displayed only sorrow for an 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 133 

unfortunate and half-crazed adversary. There was 
a little volume of Poe's poems — an English edi- 
tion — on the library table, and at sight of this I 
was prompted to ask Longfellow if Poe had ever 
personally met him, — 4 because,' I said, 4 if he had 
known you, it is impossible he could have written 
about you in such a manner.' He answered that 
he had never seen Poe, and that the bitterness 
was doubtless due to a deplorable literary jealousy. 
Then, after a pause of musing, he added, very grave- 
ly, 4 My works seemed to give him much trouble, 
first and last; but Mr. Poe is dead and buried, 
and I am alive and still writing, — and that is the 
end of the matter. I never condescended to an- 
swer Mr. Poe's attacks ; and I would advise you 
now, at the outset of your literary career, never to 
take notice of any attacks that may be made upon 
you. Let them all pass.' He then took up the 
volume of Poe, and, turning the leaves, particularly 
commended the stanzas entitled ' For Annie,' and 
* The Haunted Palace.' Then, still speaking of 
criticism, he mentioned the great number of news- 
paper and magazine articles about his own writ- 
ings that were received by him, — sent apparently 
by their writers. ■ I look at the first few lines,' he 
said, ' and if I find that the article has been writ- 



134 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

ten in a pleasant spirit, I read it through ; but if 
I find that the intention is to wound, I drop the 
paper into my fire, and so dismiss it. In that way 
one escapes much annoyance.' " 1 

It is often assumed that the general judg- 
ment of the world may be relied upon as 
sound. And this is true, if one allows time 
enough for that judgment to work itself 
clear. It took a century to establish the 
rank of Milton, so great and so persistent 
was the prejudice against him as a Puritan 
and as Cromwell's Secretary of State. And 
it frequently happens, upon the appearance 
of a man of genius whose work is absolutely 
new, that one man alone sees the new light. 
This was the case with regard to Hawthorne. 
Longfellow was not only attached to our 
great romancer as a friend and college class- 
mate : he saw the unfolding of a wonderfully 
poetic, sensitive nature, and the development 
of a power in dissecting souls such as few 
men since Shakespeare have shown. 

1 New York Tribune, March 30, 1882. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 135 

When Hawthorne's "Twice Told Tales" 
was published (1837) Longfellow wrote of it 
thus : — 

" It comes from the hand of a man of genius. 
Everything about it has the freshness of morning 
and of May. These flowers and green leaves of 
poetry have not the dust of the highway upon them. 
They have been gathered fresh from the secret 
places of a peaceful and gentle heart. There flow 
deep waters, silent, calm, and cool ; and the green 
trees look into them, and God's blue heaven." 

" This book, though in prose, is written never- 
theless by a poet." 

" Another characteristic is the exceeding beauty 
of his style. It is as clear as running waters. In- 
deed, he uses words as mere stepping-stones upon 
which with a free and youthful bound his spirit 
crosses and recrosses the bright and rushing stream 
of thought." \ 

Boston then as now had its editors and 
critics, but who of them saw the beauty 

1 See the notice in " Driftwood," a collection of early 
essays. 



136 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

which Longfellow so eloquently praised ? 
Not five hundred copies of the book were 
sold; and indeed the genius of Hawthorne 
was wholly in obscurity until the publication 
of "The Scarlet Letter." Fame was sure to 
come, for such a book could not be hidden ; 
but its sudden popularity came from a very 
singular and extraneous circumstance. In 
the " Introductory," Hawthorne had sketched 
with powerful lines some of the best known 
citizens of Salem. It was admirably done, if 
one could forget its apparent cruelty. Haw- 
thorne was smarting under the loss of his 
office, which occurred when the Whigs came 
into power ; and in the freshness of his dis- 
appointment he laid about him with vigorous 
blows. The " Introductory " got into poli- 
tics, and was attacked and defended, and so 
the book had a widespread and gratuitous 
advertisement. 

Suppose Hawthorne had died before writ- 
ing " The Scarlet Letter" ! Where would have 
been his fame ? Where was the justice of the 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 137 

general judgment? Unpalatable as the fact 
may be, there are few men living at any time 
who are masters of a pure and lucid style of 
writing, and almost as few who recognize it. 
For the bulk of mankind the turgidity of 
certain historians, or the slip-shod English 
of the citizen who writes in the newspapers 
on some emergency, is just as satisfactory as 
the exquisite grace of Curtis, or the limpid 
beauty of Hawthorne. 

EVANGELINE. 

If a plebiscite could be taken among 
women in the English-speaking world, it 
is probable that " Evangeline," published in 
1847, would be designated as the most at- 
tractive of Longfellow's longer poems. The 
general account of its origin is, that Haw- 
thorne had heard the story upon which the 
poem is based, and at first thought of making 
it the subject of a romance, but, finding it 
unsuited to his purpose, gave it to Longfel- 



IBS HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

low. The story is tlms set clown in Haw- 
thorne's Note Book : — 

" H. L. C heard from a French Canadian 

a story of a young couple in Acadie. On their 
marriage day all the men in the Province were sum- 
moned to assemble in the church to hear a procla- 
mation. When assembled, they were all seized 
and shipped off, to be distributed through New 
England, among them the new bridegroom. His 
bride set off in search of him, wandered about New 
England all her lifetime, and at last, when she was 
old, she found her bridegroom on his death -bed. 
The shock was so great that it killed her likewise." 

Mr. Longfellow, not long before his death, 
related to the writer the stoiy as he remem- 
bered it. Hawthorne came one day to dine 
with the poet, and brought with him Mr. 
H. L. Connolly. At the table Mr. Connolly 
told the Acadian story, just as Hawthorne 
has noted it down, and some conversation 
followed upon its suitableness for a romance 
or poem. Hawthorne declared that he was 
not drawn to it, and did not believe he could 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 139 

make anything of it. Longfellow, on the 

other hand, was greatly impressed by it, 
and saw in it the germ of a pathetic idyl. 
Hawthorne then said that he would waive 
any claim, and that Longfellow was welcome 
to it. 1 

The scenery in the poem is generally ad- 
mired, but it may be surprising to know that 
Mr. Longfellow was never in the Acadian 
valley. Its beauty has been often described, 
and the poet, who know so well similar land- 
scapes in Maine, had no difficulty in painting 
an ideal background for his charming story. 

After reproving Poe, 

" Who talks like a book of iambs and pentamet'.-rs 
In a way to make people of common sense damn metr^-," 

it would be an abuse of the reader's patience 
to enter upon any critical discussion of the 
hexameter measure. The way to enjoy the 
poem is to read it in time with a musical 
inner sense, but without any exaggerated 

1 Mr. Longfellow thought (March, 1882) that Connolly was 
still living. 



140 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

stress of voice. The csesural pause one nat- 
urally divines. It does not help in the least 
to think of the 

"Arma virumque cano || Trojas qui primus ab oris," 

for accent is the sole basis of English verse. 
There is no " quantity." The obvious diffi- 
culty is in the want of spondees in the lan- 
guage. Whoever wishes to give examples 
finds it necessary to use compound words, 
and they are not many nor always poetical 
in suggestion. English words of two sylla- 
bles are generally accented forcibly upon the 
one or the other, and seldom are evenly pro- 
nounced. " Firm-set," " deep-voiced," " long- 
drawn," — such are the combinations which 
the poet must use. And as for dactyls, 
the ear is guided solely by accent. If the 
line trips along, we must call it dactylic, 
though the stockades of consonants would 
have shocked an artist in Greek or Latin 
hexameter. And the lines in Evangeline do 
move with varying beauty ; they are usually 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 141 

less spondaic than the classic models, but 
they have an elastic, long-swinging move- 
ment, and well-placed caesura. Some lines 
are strongly spondaic; as where the poet, 
with a nice sense of the firm basis required, 
mentions the trees, how they 

" Stand like | harpers | hoar || with | beards that | rest on 
their | bosoms." 

The hexameter measure has seldom been 
successfully employed in English, or in any 
modern language : with the exception of 
Goethe's " Hermann und Dorothea," " Evan- 
geline " is the one conspicuous example. 1 
And the art of Longfellow is exquisite in 
suiting the measure to the sentiment of the 
lines, and by fixing the caesura so as to de- 

1 " The Bothie " of Arthur Hugh Clough is said by scholars 
to be more like Greek in metrical correctness. 

Coleridge has translated two line lines from Schiller, in 
which the measure is exemplified: — 

" Strongly it bears us along in swelling and limitless billows, 
Nothing before and nothing behind but the sky and the ocean." 

" Schwindelnd tragt er dich fort auf rastlos stromenden Wogen 
Hinter dir siehst du, du siehst vor dir nur Hiramel und Meer." 



142 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

fend against monotony. There is nothing of 
the distressing seesaw or canter in " Evan- 
geline." Every line is musical in its own 
way, and by contrast the beauty of every 
passage is heightened and sustained. 

The poem besides its perfect movement 
has the indefinable charm of perfect keeping. 
The tone is always dictated by the poet's 
perfect sense of fitness. Lowell says : — 

" Had Theocritus written in English, not Greek, 
I believe that his exquisite sense would scarce change a line 
In that rare, tender, virgin-like pastoral, Evangeline." 

All the world knows the pathetic story, 
and most persons, it may be supposed, have 
read it in haste, to follow the sad fortunes 
of the lovely heroine. It is in reading anew, 
and better after the lapse of years, that one 
finds the evidences of the poet's power in the 
descriptions of rural life. When the mind 
has comprehended the pictures of peace and 
innocence, the sights and sounds of the farm- 
yard, and the fervent religious character of 
the simple-hearted people, it gives a sense as 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 143 

of having lived in tlie fabled golden age. 
One thinks of the landscape of Ponssin with 
its motto, Et ego in Arcadia vixi. The effect 
of poetry is strongly cumulative, and the 
power or beauty of detached lines is never 
felt as it is when they are in proper place. 
But a few quotations may be pardoned, if 
only to renew old associations in the minds 
of readers. The difficulty is in selection 
among so many. 

"Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the vil- 
lage 
Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, 
Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and con- 
tentment." 

M Homeward serenely she walked, with God's benediction upon 
her. 
When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite 
music." 

" Now recommenced the reign of rest and affection and still- 
ness. 
Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twilight 

descending 
Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the herds to 
the homestead. 



144 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 

Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks on 

each other, 
And with their nostrils distended inhaling the freshness of 

evening. 
Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer, 
Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that waved 

from her collar, 
Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection." 

" Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven 
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels." 

" Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering 
vapors 
Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending 
from Sinai." 

" Feeling is deep and still ; and the word that floats on the 
surface 
Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is 
hidden." 

Space must be given for two quotations 
more, as they show the profound religious 
convictions and piety of the author. 

"The manifold flowers of the garden 
Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers and 
. . . confessions, 
Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent Carthusian." 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 145 

" Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the 
meadow, 
See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true as the 

magnet ; 
This is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has 

planted 
Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller's journey 
Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert. 
Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of passion, 
Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fra- 
grance, 
But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is 

deadly. 
Only this humble plant can guide us here, and hereafter 
Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the dews 
of nepenthe." 

/ 

It was lately remarked that Longfellow 
had fulfilled one important mission : at a time 
when the world was in a ferment of discus- 
sion, and the old foundations seemed to have 

* 

been undermined, — when the hopes of man- 
kind for the hereafter were darkened with 
fears, — when the very Deity had nearly dis- 
appeared in a haze of scholastic definitions 
and doubts, — it was for the poet to show the 

true centre of gravity in the spiritual realm, 

10 



146 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

seen by faith and reason alike, and holding 
all souls by the attraction of love. 1 / 

A correspondent of the New York Times 
relates the following story as coming from 
Longfellow : — 

" I got the climax of ' Evangeline ' from Phila- 
delphia, and it was singular how I happened to 
do so. I was passing down Spruce Street one 
day toward my hotel after a walk, when my at- 
tention was attracted to a large building with 
beautiful trees about it inside of a high enclosure. 
I walked along until I came to the great gate, 

1 This is a paraphrase from memory of an interesting brief 
address, by Prof. G. Stanley Hall, at a Longfellow Birthday 
Celebration at the School for the Blind in South Boston. 

As creeds and philosophies decay, the poet has a practical 
and needful task in giving such expression to the emotional 
life as shall give poise and self-possession to the soul. Lotze 
pities those who try to prove God, soul, immortality, or any- 
thing beyond sense, — referring to the Gemiith as the only 
worthy ground of belief. We see in Longfellow a poetical 
view of the tendency of those who have said in philoso- 
phy that " the heart makes the believer," and that " religion 
is a feeling," whether of " absolute dependence," according 
to Schleiermacher, or of " absolute freedom," according to 
Hegel. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 147 

and then stepped inside and looked carefully over 
the place. The charming picture of lawn, flower- 
beds, and shade which it presented made an im- 
pression which has never left me, and twenty-four 
years after, 1 when I came to write i Evangeline,' I 
located the final scene, the meeting between Evan- 
geline and Gabriel, and the death, at this poor- 
house, and the burial in an old Catholic graveyard 
not far away, which I found by chance in another 
of my walks. It is purely a fancy sketch, and the 
name of Evangeline was coined to complete the 
story. The incident Mr. Hawthorne's friend gave 
me, and my visit to the poor-house in Philadelphia 
gave me the groundwork of the poem." 

If there had been any doubt as to the 
position of Longfellow among modern poets, 
it was settled by the success of this beautiful 
idyl. Its popularity was great among all 
classes and in all lands. It was especially 
admired in England, and was reproduced in 
many forms. The artist Faed painted a pic- 
ture of the heroine, which was afterwards 

1 Possibly the date is wrong, as twenty-four years before 
Longfellow was an undergraduate at Bowdoin College. 



148 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 

engraved, and is everywhere known. It 
represents her as she might have appeared 
when, thinking of her lover, she 

"Sat "by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in 
its bosom 
He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside 
him." 

KAVANAGH. 

/ 

"Kavanagh" was published in 1849, and 
proved to be the least popular of the author's 
books. The story is slight, but pleasing, and 
the few incidents are chosen and presented 
with a poet's art. But the mild flavor of such 
a novel hardly satisfies readers of modern 
fiction, which has become of late so intense 
and passionate. Many a classic would utterly 
fail of success if it were new to-day. Im- 
agine the disgust at the circulating libraries 
if there were to appear a counterpart of the 
Vicar of Wakefield, or Paul and Virginia ! 
The thing in "Kavanagh" which haunts the 
memory of every writer is the procrastination 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 149 

of Churchill, who, like Coleridge, imagined 
works that were to be done ; books with gor- 
geous titles that were always alluring him 
like the domes of Kubla Khan, but were 
never made his own. An author sees in this 
common experience how the petty cares, the 
poverty, the narrowness, of Churchill's life 
filched day by day his golden hours, chilled 
his once ardent hopes, and confined him in 
half involuntary inaction as in a prison, until 
he was borne to the resting-place where there 
is neither work nor device. y 

AGASSIZ. 

The coming of Agassiz was an epoch in 
the history of Harvard College. If this in- 
stitution is of late entitled to the name of 
University, the beginning of the change 
dates from the time when the great natural- 
ist became one of its corps of teachers. The 
statement needs amplification. It is admit- 
ted, of course, that long before that time 



150 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

there were the post-graduate Schools of Law, 
Divinity, and Medicine, and that the Law- 
rence Scientific School had been established 
to afford a parallel Beal-Schule course for 
engineers and chemists. The department 
under the charge of Agassiz was intended to 
furnish supplementary instruction in certain 
branches of natural history. That of itself 
would not signify very much ; it was no 
single addition — though many came to in- 
crease the number and scope of studies — 
that raised the College to its present position. 
A second Divinity School was established 
under Episcopalian professors. Music was 
recognized among the liberal arts, and the 
new chair was filled by one of the most 
eminent of modern composers. A Museum 
of American Archaeology and Ethnology was 
founded by George Peabody. The library 
grew, and its Gothic shell grew likewise. 
Appleton Chapel, new and luxurious dormi- 
tories, the superb Gymnasium, and the mag- 
nificent Memorial Hall arose. The force of 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 151 

professors, lecturers, and tutors was steadily 
enlarged. 

But the change was less in these visible, 
material things, than in the general tone of 
thought and feeling. It was the case of an 
old-fashioned, quiet village becoming a city, 
and taking upon itself the responsibilities of 
municipal government. 

Before that time single professors might 
count for much; and as positive forces and 
centres of influence they continue to count ; 
but the great increase in the numbers and 
revenues of the College, and the coming in 
of men of mark, combined to make a total 
in which even the most brilliant specialists 
were almost lost individually. Men spoke 
less of the learned botanist, Gray, of the 
mathematical Titan, Peirce, or of the ardent 
Hellenist, Felton, but more of the combined 
power and resources of the University. 

The effectual realization of the ever-grow- 
ing plans of the College government was to 
come later, under the sagacious and brilliant 



152 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

administration of President Eliot, — a man 
born to rule, being far-seeing" and bold, yet 
possessed of infinite tact and patience. We 
have seen how Harvard Clubs have arisen in 
the principal cities, East and West, with trib- 
utary zeal and loyalty to the Alma Mater. 
We have seen how the locks of strong-boxes 
have ' opened, as needs for new buildings and 
new endowments have arisen. And now it 
appears that no Boston millionnaire of lib- 
eral training can look forward to the quiet of 
Mount Auburn, and to such an obituary no- 
tice as he would desire, until he has consulted 
his solicitor and the President, and made a 
bequest for Harvard. 

All this is recent ; but the influence had 
largely begun during the time of Agassiz's 
residence in Cambridge. He was a patient 
student of details, yet possessed of the co-or- 
dinating faculty which gave him rank among 
the great naturalists. But his power over 
men came from his large and genial nature : 
his was a sunny intellect, displayed in the 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 153 

most sunny of countenances, and by the 
most fascinating talk. There was no nimbus 
of reserve around his clear soul. Pie had 
known university life abroad as few Cam- 
bridge men had then known it. He had 
come to honor in all seats of learning. He 
had declined the senatorship and pension 
offered by the French Emperor, and had 
bravely chosen liberty (and poverty too, if 
need be), on this side of the Atlantic. The 
great-hearted — if somewhat prejudiced and 
grudging — State of Massachusetts became 
in a way his patron. The people were proud 
of him and adopted him, and raised acres of 
bricks to shelter his huge collections. He 
became an American citizen, and as thorough 
a Cambridge man as if he had the blood 
of the Quincys, Nortons, and Wares in his 
veins. He married the daughter of Thomas 
G-. Cary, an eminent citizen of Boston, and 
so became brother-in-law to the Greek Pro- 
fessor, Felton. There was so much magnet- 
ism in his nature, so much power under his 



154 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

charming simplicity of maimer, that he affected 
the Faculty as well as the students, and the 
people as well as the savants. 

It is difficult to show the full significance 
of the change before mentioned. One feature 
was the gradual secularization of the Univer- 
sity. A century ago a college professor was 
invariably " the Reverend " so-and-so. A 
clergyman, to be sure, may be also a chem- 
ist, astronomer, or philologist ; but the knowl- 
edge of theology is not a prerequisite for the 
work of the laboratory or lecture-stand. And 
the most devout reader will probably admit 
that a faculty like that at Harvard, number- 
ing near a hundred, composed of men abso- 
lutely first in their respective studies, is able 
to exert an influence upon the large body of 
undergraduates which no purely clerical cir- 
cle could hope to equal. Truth, as well as 
light, has been polarized in our times : and 
though all truths bear a fixed relation, there 
appears to be no need of filtering the exact 
deductions of science through preordained 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 155 

funnels, or of imparting a theological per- 
fume to eternal facts. 

Religious liberty prevails at Harvard in its 
purest form ; and though it is popularly con- 
sidered a Unitarian institution, yet a major- 
ity of its students, and probably a majority 
of its professors, are not Unitarians. The 
one word which expresses the attitude of its 
teachers and the aim of the governing pow- 
ers is the ancient motto on the College seal, 
Veritas. 

When Agassiz came to Cambridge, in 1847, 
he found Longfellow in the height of his 
activity and usefulness. A warm friendship 
sprang up between them. They were at- 
tracted by similar tastes and by common 
cosmopolitan culture. There was in the 
Swiss-Frenchman a breezier manner and 
more effervescence of humor, — in the Amer- 
ican more attention to the minor amenities 
and social forms ; but they agreed heartily, 
and they loved each other like David and 
Jonathan. Their diverse occupations estab- 



156 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

lished a pleasing and restful counterpoise. 
Longfellow would often take a look through 
the microscope in Agassi z's laboratory when 
at the seaside, and was deeply interested in 
the investigations going on. Agassiz in his 
turn enjoyed no recreation so much as an 
hour in Longfellow's study where the talk 
was of poetry and other literary topics. 
Either at Nahant or at Cambridge the path- 
way to Longfellow's door was the familiar 
end of his friend's strolls ; and a week rarely 
passed in which they did not meet. 

The group of " Three Sonnets" shows their 
intimate relations. " Noel," a charming trib- 
ute in French, may be likewise referred to ; 
but the most beautiful of the poetical trib- 
utes is that written on his friend's fiftieth 
birthday, first published in the same volume 
with " The Courtship of Miles Standish": — 

" It was fifty years ago, 

In the pleasant month of May, 
In the beautiful Pays de Yaud, 
A child in its cradle lay. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 157 

" And Nature, the old nurse, took 
The child upon her knee, 
Saying, ' Here is a story-book 
Thy father has written for thee.' " 



THE SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE. 

As we advance we are struck by the vari- 
ety and fitness of the metrical forms in the 
successive volumes. Hardly any poet of our 
age has produced so many styles of effective 
rhythm. It is a common observation with 
superficial critics, and with the English espe- 
cially, that Longfellow refined away the 
strength of his lines ; and it is true of the 
earlier poems, that the finish and the dulcet 
melody are more remarkable than the ner- 
vous energy. But whoever takes the pains 
to examine finds that many of his subjects 
have been treated in bold, rhythmical forms, 
and that the lines move like squadrons to 
battle. Let any man of intellect and poetical 
taste read with due attention " The Building 
of the Ship," and then write, if he can, of 



158 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

"lucent syrops tinct with cinnamon"! What 
signs are there in this grand descriptive ode 
of a refinement that lias worn away the 
nerve? The utmost directness and force 
characterize every part. 

The art that conceived and executed it is 
like the many-sided art of the ship-builder. 
We liken the two successes ; and of each ar- 
tificer we may say, — 

" For his heart was in his work, and the heart 
Giveth grace unto every Art." 

" It is the heart, and not the brain, 
That to the highest doth attain." 

It is not only the technical perfection with 
which the building and launching are de- 
scribed, — although the successive scenes are 
as vivid as instantaneous photographs; it is 
not alone the pictures of the woods where 
the almost human pines are felled, stripped 
of their green glories, and dragged away for 
masts and spars ; it is not alone the thoughts 
of the beauty, mystery, and terror of the sea, 
full of suggestion as they are ; — all these are 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 159 

parts, but the whole is more. The human 
interest speedily becomes prominent. We see 
the characteristic force of the old draughts- 
man, and the pleasing undercurrent of senti- 
ment in the nuptials of his daughter and the 
apprentice. And meanwhile the skilfully 
wrought analogy between the vessel and the 
Union, scarcely suspected at first, grows, 
page by page. As the work progresses, we 
see what keel and what ribs are meant, and 
in the blaze of patriotic feeling at the end 
we see what momentous hopes are staked 
upon the vessel, and what flag it is that flut- 
ters at the masthead. So, after firm touches 
of description, with lively associations of 
coming perils, with a light breath of love in 
the sails, and with an overflow of sacred emo- 
tion that carries all before it, the noble poem 
comes to a close. 

It has been recited by professional read- 
ers, declaimed by schoolboys, and quoted by 
preachers and orators, and still it remains 
the freshest and most stirring of our national 



160 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

poems. It may be questioned if any Ameri- 
can audience (in the North, at least) ever 
heard it without giving the inevitable tribute 
of tears. 

When readers come to the launching, they 
do not stop to consider the depreciation of 
the phrasemongers. The lines become alive, 
and the breath of the hearer quickens : — 

"When the Master, 
With a gesture of command, 
Waved his hand ; 
And at the word, 

Loud and sudden there was heard, 
All around them and below, 
The sound of hammers, blow on blow, 
Knocking away the shores and spurs. 
And see ! she stirs ! 

She starts, — she moves, — she seems to feel 
The thrill of life along her keel, 
And, spurning with her foot the ground, 
With one exulting, joyous bound, 
She leaps into the ocean's arms ! " 

It is perhaps a ridiculous comment at this 
point, but it may amuse readers to know that 
the late Mr. Hillard, who had placed this 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 161 

poem in a reading-book for schools, was re- 
monstrated with by a squeamish teacher on 
account of the alleged indelicacy of the last 

couplet. 

The ballad of "Sir Humphrey Gilbert," 
like " The Wreck of the Hesperus," is full of 
the ancient vigor, such as it was when the 
language w;is new, and custom had not worn 
off the sharp edges of words. There is not 
a particle of modern prettiness in any of the 
firm-set stanzas : — 

" Southward with fleet of ice 
Sailed the corsair !.><-ath ; 
Wild and fast blew the blast, 

And the east-win*! was his breath,." 

Then we are told of Sir Humphrey : — 

" He sat upon the deck, 

The Book was in liis hand ; 
<Do not fear! Heaven is as near,' 
He said, 'by water as by land!' 

"The moon and the evening star 
Were hanging in the shrouds ; 
Every mast, as it passed, 

Seemed to rake the passing cloud-,/' 
11 



162 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

To persons of impressible temperament 
"The Fire of Drift- Wood" is full of poetic 
association. The realistic opening, in the old 
farmhouse by the sea, in sight of " the dis- 
mantled fort," and of " the old-fashioned, si- 
lent town," 1 disposes one to a sympathetic 
attention. The depth of feeling in the sim- 
ple lines that follow cannot be paraphrased. 
Two stanzas may be quoted : — 

" The very tones in which we spake 

Had something strange, I could but mark ; 
The leaves of memory seemed to make 
A mournful rustling in the dark. 

" flames that glowed ! hearts that yearned ! 
They were indeed too much akin, 
The drift-wood fire without that burned, 
The thoughts that burned and glowed within." 

In " The Fireside " w T ill be remembered 
the beautiful and touching " Resignation," — 
a poem that has been read with sacred tears 
in countless mourning households. Memora- 
ble also is the thought of the " Sand of the 

1 Probably Marblehead, Mass. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 163 

Desert in an Hour-Glass." Observe the clear 
aphoristic lines of the first stanza : — 

" A handful of red sand, from the hot clime 
Of Arab deserts brought, 
Within this glass becomes the spy of Time, 
The minister of Thought." 

This poem is very striking throughout, but 
there is no way to condense it, or do more 
than quote this specimen stanza. Others fol- 
low in this volume, remarkable for purity 
of sentiment, and for the rare tenderness in 
which Longfellow excelled all his contempo- 
raries. It is an almost angelic tone we hear 
in them. 

THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 

In 1851 appeared this romance of the Mid- 
dle Ages, and it is safe to say that upon no 
other work excepting the translation of Dante 
did the poet expend more labor. But as 
he subsequently gave a new arrangement, — 
placing this poem as the second in a tril- 
ogy, following the " Christus," and preceding 



164 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

" The New England Tragedies," comment 
may be deferred until they can be consid- 
ered together. 

In 1854 Mr. Longfellow resigned his Pro- 
fessorship, and, as is well known, Mr. Lowell 
was appointed his successor. Longfellow was 
still under fifty, in perfect health, and at the 
height of his intellectual powers. But we 
know that the income from his books had 
greatly increased, and it was no longer neces- 
sary for him to go through the exhausting 
labor of teaching. The salary of a Professor 
at Harvard is one of the least advantages of 
the office. A competent bookkeeper or head- 
salesman in a Boston warehouse — not to 
mention the chef de cuisine of a fashionable 
hotel or club — gets better pay. Mr. Long- 
fellow naturally felt that in seventeen years 
of service he had discharged the obligation, 
if there was any, growing out of his early 
appointment ; and he desired to give the re- 
mainder of his life to purely literary labor. 
His relations with Lowell, only twelve years 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 165 

his junior, had always been cordial. Elm- 
wood, the home of the Lowell family, is but 
a short distance from the Longfellow house. 

Two persons more dissimilar could hardly 
be selected from a circle of men of high rank 
in letters; but there were enough points of 
contact in their common scholarship and their 
individual genius. The friendship between 
them was hearty; it was not the perfumed 
and placid civility of society, the display of 
which so angers a natural man ; it was a sim- 
ple, mutual liking. It is easy to see this in 
the poems which each has written for the 
other. We remember Longfellow's beautiful 
" Two Angels," written on the death of his 
friend's wife, and, later, "The Herons of Elm- 
wood," of which we quote a stanza : — 

"Sing to him, say to him, here at his gate, 

Where the boughs of the stately elms are meeting, 
Some one hath lingered to meditate, 

And send him unseen this friendly greeting." 

On the other hand, Lowell shows his 
frank and manly affection in a stanza of the 



166 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

poem written for Longfellow's birthday, in 

1867: — 

" With loving breath of all the winds his name 
Is blown about the world, but to his friends 
A sweeter secret hides behind his fame, 
And love steals shyly through the loud acclaim 
To murmur a God bless you ! and there ends." 



HIAWATHA. 

This poem was published in 1855. The 
light movement of " tripping trochaics," if 
sometimes monotonous, is fascinating to most 
ears, and the staple of the narration is wholly 
new, at least to readers of poetry. 

Mr. Longfellow made a long and laborious 
study of the works of Schoolcraft 1 and oth- 
ers, and used the legends he found as a poet 
should. That is to say, he built upon them 
and adorned them with images and com- 
parisons from his own mind. The primitive 
traditions might have been more or less strik- 

1 " Algic Researches," and " History of the Indian Tribes 
of the United States," by Henry Rowe Schoolcraft. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 167 

ing, but they undoubtedly gained somewhat 
by percolating through the mind of School- 
craft, and have been immeasurably raised in 
character by the poet's version. 

The Indians of the Northwest were supe- 
rior in mind and body to the native tribes of 
New England, but not greatly so. The sub- 
stantial traits of the various tribes do not 
vary much. The historian of New England, 
with stern exactness, sketches the aborigines 
as they were, and makes havoc of their sup- 
posed eloquence and of their traditions. He 
says : — 

" In ballads, songs, or some other rhythmical 
form of legend, most communities inherit some 
kindling traditions of the past. The New England 
Indian had nothing of the kind, nor of any other 

poetry There has been a disposition to 

attribute to the red man the power of eloquent 
speech. Never was a reputation so cheaply earned. 
A few allusions to familiar appearances in nature, 
and to habits of animals, constitute nearly all his 
topics for oratorical illustration. Take away his 
commonplaces of the mountain and the thunder, 



168 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

the sunset and the waterfall, the eagle and the 
buffalo, the burying of the hatchet, the smoking 
of the calumet, and the lighting of the council-fire, 
and the material for his pomp of words is reduced 

within contemptible dimensions 

" As to traditionary legends, the beautiful verse 
of Longfellow does but robe their beggarly mean- 
ness in cloth of gold. Of what they owe to that 
exquisite poet it is easy to satisfy one's self by col- 
lating the raw material of his work, as it stands in 
such authorities as Heckewelder and Schoolcraft. 
The results of the ' Algic Researches ' are a col- 
lection of the most vapid and stupid compositions 
that ever disappointed a laborious curiosity; but 
they were the best collection that, under the most 
favorable circumstances, was to be made in that 
quarter. Yet even of such poor products as these 
the mind of the native of New England was 
barren." 1 

So much for the material of the poem. In 
form it follows the measure of the Finnish 
epic, the " Kalevala," and like that poem, 
and like the Hebrew poetry also, it makes 
constant use of the parallelism, or repetitions, 

1 Palfrey's History of New England, Vol. I. p. 33 et seq. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 169 

which are so characteristic. One is surprised 
when certain critics mention Longfellow's 
adopting this measure as an imitation. By 
this rule every poem of our time must come 
under the same reproach. No vitally new 
metres have been invented for centuries. A 
poet takes the metre which he considers best 
adapted to his purpose. The parallelism is 
naturally employed, since it belongs to almost 
all the attempts at poetry in the early ages 
of the world. 

But the resemblance to the " Kalevala " 
goes somewhat farther, and it appears likely 
that some dim remembrances of its more 
striking passages rested in the poet's mind. 
In the Indian legend, Wenonah, daughter of 
Nokomis (who fell from the moon before 
giving birth to her), bears a son, Hiawatha, 
to the West- Wind, Mudjekeewis. In the 
Finnish legend, the daughter of air descends 
into the sea, and there, made pregnant by the 
wind and waves, bears Wainamoinen, the 
hero of the " Kalevala." 



170 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

Hiawatha fasts seven days and prays God 
for tlie good of his people, and maize is given 
them in answer to his prayer. 

Wainamoinen sows barley, — the earth 
having borne fruit and flowers before, but 
no grain, — and prays to God (Ukko) for a 
harvest, and his prayer is answered. 

The most striking resemblance, however, 
is in the description of the building of Hia- 
watha's boat. The reader remembers the 
passage, beginning thus : — 

" Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree ! 
Of your yellow bark, Birch-Tree ! 
Growing by the rushing river, 
Tall and stately in the valley J 
I a light canoe will build me, 
Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing, 
That shall float upon the river, 
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, 
Like a yellow water-lily ! " 

Hiawatha, we see, asks the trees for their 
wood, bark, resin, &c, and they speak to him 
in reply. Wainamoinen sends a man to cut 
wood for a boat, who likewise addresses the 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 171 

trees and receives answers from them. The 
addresses and answers are, however, quite 
different from those in " Hiawatha." 

Here are the addresses to the oak and the 
aspen as given in the " Kalevala." They have 
been purposely cast into Longfellow's meas- 
ure and manner, as well as the paucity of the 
original ideas would allow. 1 The repetitions 
in the "Kalevala" are distressing to the mod- 
ern reader, and the lines are difficult to ren- 
der and preserve their primitive tone. 

" Then the oak he questioned, saying, 
' Wouldst thou serve, indeed, Oak-tree, 
For the skiff as mother timber, — 
For the keelson of a war-boat 1 ' 
Wisely answered the Oak-tree, 
Gave to him these words in answer : 
' Yes, in truth, to make a boat-keel 
I have store of wood in plenty. 
Thou canst find in my tall column 
No defects, no holes, nor wind-rifts. 
Three times in this very summer, 
In the warmest summer season, 
Through my leaves the sun hath wandered, 

1 Translated by L. U. for this work, from the German ver- 
sion, Hamburg, 1855. 



172 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

On ni)'" crown the moon hath shined. 
In my branches called the cuckoo, 
In my high boughs birds have rested.' 

" Then he wished to strike the aspen, 
And to fell it with his hatchet. 
But these words the tree spake to him, — 
Spake herself, all breathless, eager : 
1 Man what is it that thou seekest ? 
What desirest to take from me?' 
Then did Sampsa Pellerwoinen 
Give, himself, these words in answer : 
' This I want ; 't is this I search for : 
Frame of boat for Wainamoinen, 
For the singer's skiff some timber.' 
Then most strangely spake the aspen, 
Cried aloud the hundred-branched one," etc. 

This is the whole. A diligent search 
through the epic failed to discover another 
parallel mythus. The obligation of Longfel- 
low to the "Kalevala" is small, — less than 
the obligations of many a poet, It is the 
prerogative of genius to build upon hints and 
suggestions. The poet, like the composer, 
finds many of his happiest melodies. How- 
ever sacred the myths of u Kalevala '' may 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 173 

be to antiquaries, they are, like those of the 
Scandinavian Edda, mostly absurd, trivial, 
or monstrous. Taking the Indian tales as he 
found them, casting them in the easy meas- 
ure of the Finnish epic, adopting the paral- 
lelism which was once almost universal, and 
with some hints in mind of which he was 
probably unconscious, Longfellow has built 
up a structure that is truly poetic, and as 
truly his own. In his hands the story 
becomes at once strong and delicate. The 
thought is lifted up and illuminated. The 
wigwam becomes a palace, and the Indian is 
ennobled. 

There is another curious felicity, that 
while as a mere story " Hiawatha" delights 
the unlearned, it has an inner beauty for 
those who know what poetry really is. This 
subtile and impalpable quality is shown in 
many passages, wherein the words are sim- 
ple, and their collocation in no wise unu- 
sual. The poetry is suggested rather than 
expressed. When Hiawatha had struggled 



174 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 

with Mondamin, a demigod or superior be- 
ing, he 

" Only saw that he had vanished, 
Leaving him alone and fainting, 
With the misty lake below him, 
And the reeling stars above him." 

When Mondamin appeared again, he 

" Came as silent as the dew comes, 
From the empty air appearing, 
Into empty air returning, 
Taking shape when earth it touches, 
But invisible to all men 
In its coming and its going." 

Among the specially beautiful passages 
may be cited the last paragraph of the in- 
troduction : — 

" Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles 
Through the green lanes of the country, 
Where the tangled barberry-bushes 
Hang their tufts of crimson berries 
Over stone walls gray with mosses, 
Pause by some neglected graveyard, 
For a while to muse, and ponder 
On a half-effaced inscription, 
Written with little skill of song-craft, 
Homely phrases, but each letter 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 175 

Full of hope and yet of heart-break, 
Full of all the tender pathos 
Of the Here and the Hereafter ; — 
Stay and read this rude inscription, 
Read this Song of Hiawatha ! " 

Observe Hiawatha going for the first time 
into the forest : — 

"Forth into the forest straightway 
All alone walked Hiawatha 
Proudly, with his bow and arrows ; 
And the birds sang round him, o'er him, 
' Do not shoot us, Hiawatha ! ' 
Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
' Do not shoot us, Hiawatha ! ' 

" Up the oak-tree, close beside him, 
Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
In and out among the branches, 
Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree, 
Laughed, and said between his laughing, 
' Do not shoot me, Hiawatha ! ' 

" Hidden in the alder-bushes, 
There he waited till the deer came, 
Till he saw two antlers lifted, 
Saw two eyes look from the thicket, 
Saw two nostrils point to windward, 
And a deer came down the pathway, 
Flecked with leafy light and shadow. 



176 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

And his heart within him fluttered, 
Trembled like the leaves above him, 
Like the birch-leaf palpitated, 
As the deer came down the pathway." 

The account of Hiawatha's fishing will be 
remembered, full as it is of brilliant, palpitat- 
ing lines : — 

" On the white sand of the bottom 
Lay the monster Mishe-Nahma, 
Lay the sturgeon, King of Fishes ; 
Through his gills he breathed the water, 
"With his fins he fanned and winnowed, 
With his tail he swept the sand-floor. 

" There he lay in all his armor ; 
On each side a shield to guard him, 
Plates of bone upon his forehead, 
Down his sides and back and shoulders 
Plates of bone with spines projecting ! 
Painted was he with his war-paints, 
Stripes of yellow, red, and azure, 
Spots of brown and spots of sable ; 
And he lay there on the bottom, 
Fanning with his fins of purple, 
As above him Hiawatha 
In his birch canoe came sailing, 
With his fishing line of cedar. 

" Slowly upward, wavering, gleaming, 
Rose the LTgudwash, the sun-fish, 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 177 

Seized the line of Hiawatha, 

Swung with all bis weight upon it, 
Made a whirlpool in the water, 

Whirled the birch canoe in circles, 
Bound and round in gurgling eddies, 
Till the circle:-; in the water 
Beached the far-off sandy beaches, 
Till the water-flags and rushes 
Nodded on the distant margins." 

The aphorism which prefaces " Hiawatha's 
Wooing " deserves quotation : — 

' ; As unto the Low the cord is, 
So unto the man is woman, 
Though she bends him, she obeys him, 
Though she draws him, yet she follows, 
Useless each without the other ! " 

The dancing of Pau-Pnk-Keewis is de- 
scribed with light and airy grace, but the 
passage is too long to be inserted here. 

The singer, Chibiabos, is a beautiful crea- 
tion, on which our poet has almost exhausted 
his infinite tender sentiment : — 

" Most beloved by Hiawatha 
Was the gentle Chibiabos, 
lie the best of all musicians, 
He the sweetest of all singers. 
12 



178 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

Beautiful and childlike was lie, 
Brave as man is, soft as woman, 
Pliant as a wand of willow, 
Stately as a deer with antlers. 

"All the many sounds of nature 
Borrowed sweetness from his sindnor; 
All the hearts of men were softened 
By the pathos of his music ; 
For he sang of peace and freedom, 
Sang of beauty, love, and longing ; 
Sang of death, and life undying 
In the Islands of the Blessed, 
In the kingdom of Ponemah, 
In the land of the Hereafter." 

His artless love-sonff at the wedding" of 
Hiawatha lingers in the memory. And 
when, later, the gentle musician dies, the 
whole forest world joins in the lament : — 

" 'He is dead, the sweet musician! 
He the sweetest of all singers ! 
He has gone from us forever, 
He has moved a little nearer 
To the Master of all music, 
To the Master of all singing ! 
my brother, Chibiabos ! ' 

"And the melancholy fir-trees 
Waved their dark green fans above him, 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 179 

Waved their purple cones above him, 
Sighing with him to console him, 
Mingling with his lamentation 
Their complaining, their lamenting. 

" Came the Spring, and all the forest 
Looked in vain for Chibiabos ; 
Sighed the rivulet, Sebowisha, 
Sighed the rushes in the meadow. 

" From the tree-tops sang the bluebird, 
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
' Chibiabos ! Chibiabos ! 
He is dead, the sweet musician ! ' 

"From the wigwam sang the robin, 
Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
' Chibiabos ! Chibiabos ! 
He is dead, the sweetest singer ! ' 

"And at night through all the forest 
Went the whippoorwill complaining, 
Wailing went the Wawonaissa, 
' Chibiabos ! Chibiabos ! 
He is dead, the sweet musician ! 
He the sweetest of all singers ! ' " 

Of all the touching passages in Longfel- 
low's poems this monody for Chibiabos will 
be hereafter most affectionately recalled, 
when men think of the voice that is now 
hushed forever. 

"Hiawatha" was a novelty, both as regards 



180 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

subject and form, and few men are able to 
judge of an entirely new species of compo- 
sition off-hand. The poem was praised and 
ridiculed, and the feeling pro and con be- 
came intense. As we know now that the 
poem is one of Longfellow's best, it will be 
more entertaining, perhaps, to see what was 
said by those who disliked or failed to ap- 
preciate it. We copy the pith of an article 
from the Daily Traveller 1 of Boston : — 

"We cannot deny that the spirit of poesy 
breathes throughout the work, * . . . but Ave can- 
not but express our regret that our own pet na- 
tional poet [sic] should not have selected as the 
theme of his muse something higher and better 
than the silly legends of the savage aborigines. 
His poem does not awaken one sympathetic throb ; 
it docs not teach a single truth : and. rendered into 
prose, Hiawatha would be a mass of the most child- 
ish nonsense that ever dropped from human pen. 
In verse it contains nothing so precious as the 
golden time which would be lost in the reading 
of it." 

1 November 20, 1S55. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 181 

The publishers) Mei > ■-. 'J i 
>rted by a curt note to the 'J .- • eller, irith- 
tbeir adi • and asking 

paper stopped* 
The 'J :•■- eller res] I by i 

rather hasty note, and chai the publi 
ith atfc influence die pr< 

^ theii • patronage r 

ujx orable opinions of new boo!. 

Tliis created no small stir; - 
\>(>(;u\ at the same time f : f l on 

other grounds, the ne i the At- 

ippi v. ged 

in I cont] Through all tl 

storm Mr. Longfello aim, j 

ing no attention to assailants or defend 
It. j- said that Mr. Fields one 
off to Cambridge in a state of great r 

nt, — that morning's mail b ring broi 
an unusual! ! j of s 

odi< es being, be i 

>recL of a seri lv damaging character 
I dear Mr Longfello he 



182 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

bursting into the poet's study, " these atro- 
cious libels must be stopped." Longfellow 
glanced over the papers without comment. 
Handing them back, he quietly asked, " By 
the way, Fields, how is 'Hiawatha' selling?" 
" Wonderfully !" replied the excited pub- 
lisher ; " none of your books has ever had 
such a sale." " Then," said the poet calmly, 
"'I think we had better let these people go 
on advertising it." 1 

THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. 

After the publication of " Hiawatha," there 
appears to have been an interval of quiet. 
It is not likely that the poet's pen was idle, 
although his motto as to his work must have 
been always " Without haste," as well as 
" Without rest" ; but there was a period dur- 
ing which few poems appeared. The public 
bought immense numbers of volumes, but 
the magazines were not, as now, the munifi- 
cent patrons of poetry and art. Something 

1 Correspondence of Cleveland (Ohio) Herald. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 188 

has been already said of the Knickerbocker 
and the Philadelphia magazines. Putnam's 

Monthly had a comparatively short, but bril- 
liant and honorable career; of the purely 
literary magazines still existing, we can re- 
member only Harper's that was successful 

then. But in 1857, and before that time, 
Harper's was largely filled with copied arti- 
cles, and neither that nor any other literary 
periodical was an outspoken organ of opinion. 
It was then supposed necessary to avoid con- 
troverted topics, and epicene literature was 
mostly in vogue. Writers and thinkers might 
deplore this, but publishers were timid, and 
kept a weather eye open to watch the vanes 
of public opinion. 

The Atlantic Monthly was started with the 
definite purpose of concentrating the efforts 
of the best writers upon literature and poli- 
tics, under the light of the highest morals. 
Mr. Longfellow was one of the first persons 
consulted, and gave his hearty approval to 
the plan. The success of the new magazine 



184 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

is historical. There seemed to have been a 
wonderful accumulation of fascinating 1 arti- 
cles waiting 1 for an outlet. The chief honor 
belongs to Holmes, whose " Autocrat of the 
Breakfast Table " was perhaps the most bril- 
liant series of papers in our time, on either 
side the Atlantic, Much was due to the es- 
says, poems, and skilful leadership of Lowell, 
and to the great name and characteristic 
verses of Emerson. And when Longfellow, 
generally admitted to be the chief of Amer- 
ican poets, contributed a poem to nearly 
every number, the public had an assurance 
that the new magazine contained the best re- 
sults of American authorship. / Among the 
many beautiful poems of Longfellow in the 
Atlantic may be mentioned " Sandalphon," 
" Santa Filomena," " The Golden Milestone," 
"Catawba Wine," "The Birds of Killing- 
worth, 1 ' "The Children's Hour," "Paul Re- 
veres Bide; 1 and " The Bells of Lynn." The 
number of his contributions was large, and 
he was in his best estate of mind and body. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL 8KETCH. 1^ r > 

As the Atlantic waa started at a dinner, 
it was long a custom for the editor and 
chief contributors to dine together once a 
month, on the last Saturday, when the num- 
ber for the succeeding month was out. The 
attendance varied, of course, but the persons 
usually present for the first two years were 
Agassiz, J. Eliot Cabot, John 8. Dwight, 
Emerson, Felton, Holmes, Judge K. R. Hoar, 
Dr. Estes Howe, Longfellow, Lowell, Charles 
E. Norton, and Edmund Quincy. Motley 
the historian came to the first dinner, "a 
picked man of countries," the finest speci- 
men of manly intellectual beauty, proba- 
bly, that our time has known ; lie left soon 
after, to pursue his studies abroad. Whittier 
came rarely. His health was always delicate, 
his appetite capricious, and he was evidently 
troubled by the clouds of smoke that suc- 
ceeded the dinner. Occasionally Whipple and 
Trowbridge came; also, guests from abroad 
who chanced to be in town. Once only the 
women contributors were invited. The ideal 



186 HENRY WADSWORTB LONGFELLOW. 

dinner, as it exists in the mind of Englishmen 
and Americans, does not lend itself kindly to 
the refined tastes o( the gentler sex. The ex- 
periment was not repeated, Agassiz was full 
of bonliommie, full of pleasant discourse, and 
was always listened to. The two brilliant 
talkers were Holmes and Lowell. Lonfffel- 

o 

low between them was u a sweetly nn obtru- 
sive third/' and Emerson was sure to finish a 
discussion by some striking comment or po- 
etical aphorism. Haying read what has been 
recorded of the wit of after-dinner festivities 
of famous men in London and Edinburgh, 
the writer feels sure that the conversation 
of the leading men of this group has never 
been surpassed, and seldom if ever equalled. 
A reporter would have been a being to be 
shunned at the time ; but what a delight it 
would now be to recall the scenes as they 
live in memory ! The wit of Holmes and 
of Lowell especially never shone so brightly 
in print as in their dazzling but unstudied 
fence. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 187 

The dinners took place generally in I 
]',i.r f /c: front room at Pari ' the drib 

dined at Fontaa ien the h 

and delightful i in his produced a 

wen rthy of Lucullua, One dinner i 
given at Portei mce famous hotel about 

a mile north of the College in Cambridj 
where the long-forgotten secret of flip still 
lingered* — tall and shrewd-look- 

ing landlord himself carved the ca. 
ducks and the mongrel go' icompanying 

his masterly dissection with delightful old- 
time comment and anecdote. On thi 

Jar OC D the hilari 4 rah — 

though still on the hither side of i 
Every one was in supreme good humor. 
The Medical Professor shone with an & 
superiority, and tossed about his compli 
like juggler's balls. Being particularly gra- 
cious towards Longfellow, and having just 
written that authors were like ore to 

purr when stroked the rig. of the 

fur, Lonrrfellow, with a merrv twinkle in 



1S8 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

his eyes, interrupted him with " I purr, I 
purr ! " 

The company broke up late, and on going- 
out found that a foot of snow had fallen. 
There were no horse-cars, and all walked 
hack to Old Cambridge, the younger mem- 
bers chanting Dr. Palmers chorus " Putty- 
rum," from his East Indian sketch. 

Mr. Longfellow continued his contributions 
to the Atlantic, as is well known, to the last 
years of his life. 

THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 

We must still use the successive books as 
milestones on our way. The poems which 
sang in the heart of the poet were the epochs 
of his life, and their dates must be our guides 
as we follow. 

This romance of the Pilgrims appeared in 
185 8. The accounts of the trials and suffer- 
ings of the Plymouth Colony are among our 
most precious memorials : and perhaps the 
time may come when a descent from the first 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 189 

passengers of the Mayflower will count for 
as much here as a Norman pedigree counts 
in England. Readers must not confound 
Pilgrims and Puritans, — at least in Massa- 
chusetts history. The Pilgrims who came 
in the Mayflower had possibly got a little 
mellowed in Holland ; not in doctrine, but in 
social life and manners. Judge T. R., him- 
self a lineal descendant of Plymouth stock, 
avers that the Pilgrims played whist during 
all that dreary and terrible first winter. 

The Puritans of the Boston settlement were 
as a body more learned, possessed of more 
wealth, and had left a higher social position 
behind them in England. But their bigotry 
was of ah intensely bitter sort. Their liter- 
ature may be seen in the pedantic and su- 
perstitious "Magnalia" of Mather, and in the 
mouldering poems of Anne Bradstreet. Their 
charity was exhibited in the banishment of 
Roger Williams, and in sending their most 
intellectual woman, Anne Hutchinson, out in- 
to the wilderness to be murdered by Indians. 



L90 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, 

Their jurisprudence is illustrated during the 
rule of the theocracy, when Cotton Mather 
and his fellow elders were as supreme as are 
now the twelve apostles of Salt Lake City; 
and when courts and judges, aside from stat- 
utes, based verdicts and death-sentences upon 
the five books of Moses, These things re- 
main a charge against Massachusetts Furi- 
tans, and they cannot be blotted out by the 
tears of descendants : although the still visi- 
ble groans of Sewall, the judge, in his Diary, 
dispose us to pity and palliation of his griev- 
ous fault 

The Pilgrims of Plymouth were more 
amiable : the milk of human kindness with 
them had not curdled. They had no quarrel 
with Roger Williams; they even sheltered 
Quakers. If we can believe the accounts of 
the time, the Quakers in 1(540 were by no 
means like the venerable and lovely Luere- 
tia Mott and the beloved John G\ Wintrier, 
known by us all : but were rather addle- 
pated, half crazed by ecstatic visions, and by 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 191 

of the Lord When tb< . ii. erf the L 
prompted people '• to I 
themsefo in me< 

Puritan* may per] 4 if tl 

ributed the inspiration to r ; ther 

rce. This fact jr.. , , . 

at upon • 'I . ■■■ En 

hereinafter to be noticed. 

The Pi. a of 

amiable manne id of noble i 

tgfello ; in hi airly 

all the traditi 
and has included among tin 

from John Eliot, the mi 
to the Indians, wrho lived near B The 

rf the Mayfl the 

plots of the 
band of settlers renw 

conduct of . ' - of 

d the 
ition ci 

of 



192 HENRY WADSWOETH LONGFELLOW. 

John Alden to court the beautiful Priscilla 
in his behalf. The arch reply of the maiden 
is historical. The tradition of the ride of the 
bride home upon the back of the milk-white 
steer has likewise been handed down from 
generation to generation. If carping anti- 
quarians query, and say that the Mayflower 
brought no cattle, and that there was not a 
steer in the Plymouth Colony, white, red, or 
brindle. that is so much the worse for them. 
Longfellow knew, as we all know, that the 
story ought to be true, and so he has aiven it. 
Therefore through the fragrant Plvmouth 
woods and among its lovely blue ponds the 
milk-white steer shall continue to go without 
hindrance from us. 

" The Courtship of Miles Standish " is more 
grim and realistic, less dreamy and poetical, 
than ••Evangeline." The latter is an Arca- 
dian idvl. the former a metrical chronicle. 
"Evangeline" is full of delicate sentiment, 
and its romantic idea haunts us like the 
remembered odors of flowers. " Miles Stand- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 193 

ish n tells us of stern trials and fierce encoun- 
ters in the midst of scenes which we have no 
time or heart to admire. Nor is the measure 
of the Pilgrim story so full of music and 
changeful accent. Continually we hear in 
the martial hexameters the clang of Miles 
Standish's long sword. It is only Priscilla, 
the most natural and artless of women, who 
fully charms us, and makes us forget all else 
in following the story of her noble and 
womanly love. As we remember that her 
blood and John Alden's were transmitted to 
Longfellow, we feel a double interest in the 
woman who dared to let her heart speak for 
her. It was a beautiful thought of the poet, 
after more than two centuries, to go back to 
the Old Colony and lay his tribute of May 
flowers on the grave of the mother of his 
race. 

NAHANT. 

From about the year 1850 Longfellow 
spent his summers at Nahant. It may be of 

13 



194 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

interest to readers, especially those away from 
the sea-shore, to give some account of this 
place; partly because it is unique and singu- 
larly picturesque, and partly because it is 
associated with many poems, and with tlie 
poet's seasons of serenest pleasure. 

Nahant is a peninsula stretching out from 
Lynn into Massachusetts Bay. Geologically 
it is an island of granite with interior ba- 
sins of fertile soil, connected with the main- 
land by a long and narrow sand-bar. The 
connection might perhaps have been sun- 
dered long ago, if it had not been for the 
solid road built over it. At the end of the 
peninsula one is practically at sea ; at all 
events, the sea has its own way on all sides. 
The masses of rock around the coast are 
colossal, and they have been splintered by 
frosts, ground by icebergs, and creviced by 
eternal washings, until they form a series of 
pictures of utter desolation. In stormy sea- 
sons the roar of the ocean and the dashing of 
the gigantic waves against the rocky barrier 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. W5 

are awfully sublime, A little west of north 
i . Egg Rock, a huge bowlder carrying a small 
lighthouse on its back, like a candle for die 
returning fishermen of Swampscott South 
west, on a projection from the Great 
Brewster, stands Boston Light, a shapely 
white tower with a revolving: light, 
ing the entrance into Boston Harbor. r j 
Middle and Outer Brewsters are nearer; also 
Calf Island, Green Island, and the dreaded 
of r named The Graves. Due 

south stands the lighthouse on Minotfa Ledge 
Northward are Baker's Island lights, and, 
more eastward, those of Thatcher' Island 
at Cape Ann. Whether by day or night, in 
calm or storm, the views of sea and shore 
from Nahant are al fascinating ; — some- 

times as level v as the scenery among the 
isles of the jEgeati netimes as terrible as 
the storm-beaten <■ of Norway. 

This small peninsula has long been a favor- 
ite summer resort for the wealthy people of 
Boston and vicinity ; and, after those of N 



196 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

port, its so-called cottages, which are elabo- 
rate and costly villas in fact, are the most 
picturesque seaside residences on the Atlantic 
coast. As at Newport, fashion for the most 
part has full control ; and the dress, equipage, 
lawn parties, and dinners are suited to the 
tastes and means of the rich. 
/ Here upon a rocky platform, with a pleas- 
ant southwestern exposure, stands the cot- 
tage where Mr. Longfellow lived. It is a 
house of ample size, with wide verandas, and 
is surrounded with such shrubbery as the 
unsparing winds that sweep the peninsula 
allow. The season is short, beginning per- 
haps in the middle of June, and ending by 
the last of September. A few summer resi- 
dents go nominally, or perhaps vicariously, 
before the first of May. Taxes are very light 
in Nahant, and in Massachusetts the first of 
May is the decisive time as to a tax-payer's 
legal residence. 

Here around the coast, away from the few 
roads, perfect quiet reigns, interrupted only 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 197 

by the rote of the sea. To lie on the patches 
of grass in view of the grand rocks, and to 
see and hear the thunderous shocks of waves, 
or to look at the glassy, heaving sea, or to 
scan the distant passing ships, or the tiny 
sails of fishing-smacks, or to follow the ma- 
noeuvres of the white-winged yachts, is a 
pleasure which only the experienced can 
value. Lotos-eating in comparison is a very 
nervous and unsatisfactory recreation. 

For a long time Nahant was almost the 
only fashionable seaside resort near Boston. 
Of late the blood of the Vikings has reas- 
serted itself, and almost the whole population 
flocks to the shore in hot weather. Enor- 
mous, gaudy hotels swelter on sandy beaches, 
or crown the green, cedar-dotted knolls, from 
Eevere away to the line of New Brunswick. 
For three months brown hands and ruddy, 
tanned cheeks are fashionable ; and young 
dandies are sculling in punts, while troops 
of masquerading bathers are gambolling like 
seals on the shelving, shelly shores. 



198 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

The influences of Nahant scenery are evi- 
dent in many of Longfellow's poems. It is 
true lie came from a seaport town, but the 
Atlantic is at some distance from the wharves 
of Portland, and nowhere could he have felt 
the majesty and power of the ocean as at 
Nahant. Readers remember the poem " Sea- 
weed," a marvellous piece of work, full of 
sharp lines to the eye, and full of remem- 
bered sounds of the ocean ; perhaps as skil- 
fullv wrought in its imitations and asso- 
nances as any from his pen : — 

" When descends on the Atlantic 
The gigantic 
Storm-wind of the equinox, 
Landward in his wrath he scourges 

The toiling surges, 
Laden with seaweed from the rocks ; 

" From Bermuda's reefs ; from edges 

Of sunken ledges 
In some far-off, bright Azore; 
From Bahama and the dashing, 

Silver-flashing 
Surges of San Salvador ; 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 199 

"From the tumbling surf, that buries 
The Orkneyan skerries, 
Answering the hoarse Hebrides ; 

And from wrecks of ships, and drifting 

Spar.-, uplifting 
On the desolate, rainy seas ; — 

"Ever drifting, drifting, drifting 

On the shifting 
Currents of the restless main ; 
Till in sheltered coves, and reaches 

Of sandy beaches, 
All have found repose again." 

"The Bells of Lynn'' is another charm- 
ing piece, — a beautiful landward view from 
Nahant over a calm stretch of water. Other 
poems have clear references to the scenery 
of Nahant, which the intelligent will see. 

A TKAGEDY. 

Longfellow, as we have seen, had enjoyed 
a favorite's share of fortune. All his plana 
had prospered. He was the one person in 
Cambridge whom every one knew and loved. 
A quiet and studious scholar, he outranked 
all Governors, Congressmen, and other dig- 



200 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

nitaries. Living in a university town where 
nearly every resident was the centre of some 
learned circle, he was, like Goethe at Wei- 
mar, the one man famous by divine right and 
by the universal suffrage of hearts. If ever 
man had " honor, love, obedience, troops of 
friends," — everything to fill the mind with 
serene happiness, — that man was Longfellow. 
But the inner feelings of his sonl and the 
sacred remembrances of love were locked 
and guarded from every eye. Regarding" 
these thoughts and their mementos he never 
allowed a word to pass his lips. He might 
well say, with Lowell, — 

" I come not of the race 
That hawk their sorrows in the marketplace." 

And for that reason, among others, the 
public have never known the inexpressible 
agony, followed by a chastened but per- 
petual grief, which he suffered in the loss 
of his wife. It is impossible to exaggerate 
his devoted love for this noble woman, the 
mother of his children, who had made his 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 201 

home little less than paradise. On the 4th 
of July, 1861, she was burned to death in 
his presence. She was dressed in ample, 
flowing muslin, and by some mischance her 
garments took fire from a lighted match. 
The flame spread almost with a flash ; the 
startled husband, seeing no other means at 
hand, seized a large rug or mat and attempt- 
ed to roll it about her to extinguish it, but in 
vain. In a moment she received injuries 
which were mortal. His hands were severe- 
ly burned in the sharp struggle. Nothing 
was left but the undying sense of his irre- 
parable loss, and the image of a glorious 
soul to be treasured forever. 

There is not, so far as can be ascertained, 
a single reference to this terrible event in his 
published poems. The world moved on, and 
the poet in time resumed his studies and 
labors, but there must often have come to 
him a thought like Tennyson's : — 

" But for the touch of a vanished hand 
And the sound of a voice that is still!" 



202 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
THE WAYSIDE INN. 

The " Tales of a Wayside Inn" have a 
flavor of Boccaccio, less the coarseness which 
the thirteenth century allowed, with some 
reminiscences also of Chaucer, first of Eng- 
lish story-tellers. The expedient of gather- 
ing a well-contrasted yet harmonious com- 
pany of scholars and artists as the ostensible 
narrators is obviously natural and conve- 
nient ; it does not matter that it had been 
employed before. The scene is at the old 
Howe Tavern, in Sudbury, Mass., that had 
been famous for more than a century. It 
still stands, though no longer used for its 
original purpose. In the illustrated edition 
of Longfellow's Poems may be seen a pic- 
ture of the tavern, representing a large and 
rather irregular building, with hipped roof 
and tall chimneys, surrounded by venerable 
trees. 

In this ancient hostelry the usages of for- 
mer generations remained with little change. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 203 

Open fireplaces invited guests to enjoy the 
warmth of huge wood fires; candles and 
primitive lamps served instead of gas ; the 
table service was as unlike as possible that 
of the modern hotel ; but the fare was sub- 
stantial, and was cooked according to lon°-- 
descended tradition. In short, the Wayside 
Inn was a sensible, comfortable, old-fash- 
ioned tavern, something wholly unknown to 
the present generation. The soul and cen- 
tre of the tavern was the bar-room, where in 
a corner a portcullis and railing defended 
the mixer and his precious liquids. Hospi- 
tality, simplicity, and plenty have vanished 
from country inns, as completely as fireside 
comfort went when a "black pitfall in the 
floor " took the place of a blazing open fire. 
The pane of glass, with the 

"Jovial rhymes, 
Writ near a century ago 
By the great Major Molineaux," 

has been taken from the window and framed, 
and is now shown to visitors. 



204 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

Among the dramatis personce of the poems 
are certain well-known figures. We have 
no difficulty in naming the musician, Ole 
Bull, — 

" Fair-haired, blue-eyed, his aspect blithe, 
His figure tall and straight and lithe, 
And every feature of his face 
Revealing his Norwegian race : 
A radiance, streaming from within, 
Around his eyes and forehead beamed. 
The Angel with the violin, 
Painted by Raphael, he seemed." 

The Sicilian — 

" In sight of Etna born and bred " — 

was Professor Luigi Monti, an author, teach- 
er, and lecturer, who was on terms of inti- 
macy with Longfellow, and for many years 
was in the habit of dining with him on Sun- 
days. 

" His face was like a summer night, 
All flooded with a dusky light ; 
His hands were small ; his teeth shone white, 
As sea-shells, when he smiled or spoke ; 
His sinews supple and strong as oak ; 
Clean shaven was he as a priest, 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 205 

Who at the mass on Sunday rings, 

Save that upon his upper lip 

His beard, a good palm's length at least, 

Level and pointed at the tip, 

Shot sidewise, like a swallow's wings." 

The youth 

" Of quiet ways, 
A student of old books and days," 

was Dr. Henry W. Wales, a liberal friend 
to the College. 

The Theologian was probably intended as 
a likeness of the poet's brother, the Rev. 
Samuel Longfellow, although some accounts 
mention Professor Trowbridge, an amateur 
theologian. 

We read, too, of a Poet, 

" Whose verse 
Was tender, musical, and terse ; 
The inspiration, the delight, 
The gleam, the glory, the swift flight 
Of thoughts so sudden that they seem 
The revelations of a dream, 
All these were his." 

This was Thomas William Parsons, known 
to lovers of poetry as a man of undoubted 



206 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

genius, but of a nature so shy and retiring 
that he has shrunk from popular applause, 
and almost dreaded the clear light of fame. 
His " Lines on a Bust of Dante" are full of 
power ; the compact thought, and the stern 
brevity that presents the naked idea and 
scorns all rhetorical ornament, are such as 
might have extorted praise from his illustri- 
ous subject. Mr. Parsons is best known to 
scholars by his translation of the " Divina 
Commedia." 

"The Spanish Jew from Alicant " appears 
to be an imaginary person, needed to com- 
plete the circle by bringing in the thoughts 
and traditions of an elder time and an an- 
cient race. 

The Landlord leads off with the story of 
" Paul Revere's Ride." The lire of patriot- 
ism that burns in this ballad, no less than its 
rapid movement and its undoubted inspira- 
tion, will preserve it for generations. People 
wdio think of Longfellow as merely a bard of 
the proprieties, one whose nerve is refined 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 207 

away, will do well to read once more this 
vigorous, simple, and almost perfect specimen 
of art. It cannot have been a mere coinci- 
dence that this thrilling poem should have 
been written in January, 1861, three months 
before the outbreak of our civil war. We 
must believe that the roll of Southern drums 
had reached a finer and almost prophetic 
sense, and that the poet in this story was 
announcing to the still unsuspecting North 
the coming on of a struggle whose vast pro- 
portions and terrible slaughters were to make 
Lexington and Bunker Hill mere skirmishes 
in comparison. 

The stories that follow cannot be men- 
tioned in detail. We are glad to see in fair 
and graceful verse Boccaccio's pathetic tale 
of " Ser Federigo and his Falcon"; we wel- 
come the bright and impressive versions of 
Talmudic and mediaeval legends ; and we 
follow the Norwegian through the Sagas of 
his fierce and slaughter-loving race. In ren- 
dering the latter, Longfellow has given us 



208 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 

the leading myths and almost the poetic an- 
thology of the Scandinavians. 

As we pass, we must commend the no- 
ble thoughts and the high religious feeling 
shown in one of the utterances of the Theo- 
logian : — 

" And most of all thank God for this : 
The war and waste of clashing creeds 
Now end in words, and not in deeds, 
And no one suffers loss, or bleeds, 
For thoughts that men call heresies. 

Must it be Calvin, and not Christ 1 
Must it be Athanasian creeds, 
Or holy water, books, and beads ? 
Must struggling souls remain content 
With councils and decrees of Trent? 

For others a diviner creed 
Is living in the life they lead. 
The passing of their beautiful feat 
Blesses the pavement of the street." 

The religion of humanity and the sweet 
charity of the Sermon on the Mount have 
rarely been more truly portrayed. 

This series concludes with " The Birds of 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 209 

Killingworth," a charming and impressive 
poem, for which the author will be held in 
affectionate remembrance by all who delight 
in the brightest and gayest of the creatures 
of our common Father. Among the minor 
pieces at the end of the volume is " The 
Children's Hour," a poem that will henceforth 
be read with a tender and almost sacred feel- 
ing by the admirers of the poet. What a 
picture of happiness, of yearning fatherly 
affection, this simple poem opens to us ! 
Somewhat sadder, but even more pathetic, 
is the final poem, " Weariness," beginning, 

" little feet ! that such long years," etc. 

The second series of the " Tales of a 
Wayside Inn " was not published until many 
years later, in 1872; but it may be briefly 
mentioned here as continuing the scene al- 
ready described, with the same character, and 
with a similar variety of thought and music 
in the interchange of stories. The volume 
further contains "Judas Maccabaeus," a dra- 

14 



210 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

matic poem in vigorous blank verse, and " A 
Handful of Translations," mostly from Ori- 
ental authors. 

A third series appeared in the volume en- 
titled "Aftermath," published in 1873. In 
this are some of the most beautiful of the 
whole collection. The story of Emma, the 
daughter of Charlemagne, and her student- 
lover, Eginhard, is charmingly told. "Eliza- 
beth" is a quaint but genuine Quaker idyl, 
showing the heart of a delicate woman under 
the strict rule of the Friends. "The Rhyme 
of Sir Christopher" is also a poem to be 
remembered. 



HAWTHORNE. 

We have before mentioned Longfellow's 
early friendship for Hawthorne, and have 
shown how, with a poet's insight, he had dis- 
cerned the signs of creative power, and the 
promise of fame in his early sketches and 
stories. The discovery was wholly Longfel- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 211 

low's : it . was the clear perception of one 
man of genius against the dull optics of a 
whole generation of critics. 

When Hawthorne's classmate, Franklin 
Pierce, was elected President, it was univer- 
sally recognized as a proper and meritorious 
act for the new ruler to remember the friend 
of his youth. For Hawthorne was not a 
money-maker ; that would have been wholly 
irreconcilable with the movements of his 
mind. He never planned an article nor 
shaped a sentence to win applause or to ad- 
vance his own interests in any way. What 
rewards came he received, and until he went 
abroad as Consul to Liverpool, in 1852, they 
were scanty. At the end of his official term, 
as readers knoAv, he went to Italy, where he 
wrote the most celebrated of his longer ro- 
mances. He returned to the United States 
in the summer of 1860, and resumed his res- 
idence in Concord. His health had failed, 
and his subsequent literary labors were des- 
ultory and unsatisfactory. He died on May 



212 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

19, 1864, and was buried in the graveyard 
not far from the Old Manse which his vivid 
genius has immortalized. Readers will re- 
member the pathetic account of the funeral 
in the late Mr. Fields's " Yesterdays with 
Authors." 

Longfellow has commemorated the scene 
in a poem of ideal beauty. We quote the 
last two stanzas : — 

" There in seclusion and remote from men 
The wizard hand lies cold, 
Which at its topmost speed let fall the pen, 
And left the tale half told. 

" Ah ! who shall lift that wand of magic power, 
And the lost clew regain ? 
The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower 
Unfinished must remain ! " 

The small circle was broken. Felton, in- 
augurated President of the College in 1860, 
died, two years later, at Chester, Penn. Now 
Hawthorne was gone, and there remained 
Agassiz, Sumner, and Longfellow. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 213 

FLOWER-DE-LUCE. 

In this small collection we see some of 
the most delicately beautiful of Longfellow's 
workmanship. It is perhaps some disadvan- 
tage for a poet to contend, year after year, 
with his own early fame. In the minds of 
most living men of middle age, the early 
poems had an established place; they had 
been often read and repeated ; and now they 
were the half of an equation, of which the 
other was Longfellow himself. The new- 
comers were pretenders — to be scrutinized. 
Many have felt probably, as the author did, 
that, no matter how exquisite might be the 
feeling and how deft the art of the later po- 
ems, they could not, should not be admitted 
to take the place of those that had been as- 
sociated with so many thronging memories. 
In a sense, the old-fashioned admirers and 
lovers of the poet almost resented the thought 
that their spring-time favorites were to be 
overshadowed. 



214 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

It is not easy to judge as to what would 
be the effect of the publication of such poems 
as "FIower-de-Luee" "The Bells of Lynn," 
or " Killed at the Ford," from an author 
before unknown. It is probable that they 
would be received with universal delight. 
Year by year Longfellow's fame had grown, 
until he was his own tremendous rival. 
From him great things were naturally ex- 
pected, and a poem that would have created 
a furore from a new man was from him only 
an e very-day occurrence. 

This observation will be found to hold 
good, that whenever the reader sees any 
poem of Longfellow' s of moderate length, — 
not being a translation, — it is sure to con- 
tain some high truth or some truly poetical 
imao'e. It is in the longer and more labored 
productions that passages of less evident in- 
spiration occur. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 215 



CIIRISTUS, A MYSTERY. 



The separate parts of the Mystery, "The 
Golden Legend," "The Divine Tragedy," 
and " The New England Tragedies," were 
written at different periods ; the iirst named 
having been published in 1851, the last in 
1868, and the Gospel story in 1872. 

"The Golden Legend" (whose name only 
is derived from the " Legenda Anrea" of 
Jacopo di Voragine) is based upon an an- 
cient German poem in ballad form, entitled 
"Der arme Ileinrich," by Ilartmann von 
Ane. 1 

So far as the vital idea is concerned, — the 
attempted voluntary sacrifice of her life by 
a maiden in order to prolong that of her 
prince, — Longfellow's poem follows the me- 
dieval legend with little variation. But 
" The Golden Legend" has what we might 
call the stage properties, costume and scen- 
ery, together with a wealth of description 

1 Deutsche Classiker des Mittelulters, Leipzig, 18G7. 



216 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

and a richness of style which are all un- 
known in the German poem. For the beauty 
of individual scenes, and for the general po- 
etical tone, there can be nothing but praise. 
The monks are treated in a most artistic 
manner, especially in the original edition. 
A few phrases which the poet's friends prob- 
ably considered rather free have disappeared 
since. The entrance of Mephistopheles, of 
course, suggests Goethe, who reminds us of 
Marlowe, who reminds us of the prologue to 
the biblical poem of Job, — behind which we 
cannot go, there being no pre-Judaic tradi- 
tions. But the notion of the presence and 
activity in human affairs of a spirit of evil is 
as old as the oldest of races. 

For the mere pleasure of reading, " The 
Golden Legend " is a delightful poem ; as a 
part of a trilogy it is fettered by connections 
on either hand to scenes and events, — ages 
before and ages after, — which are certainly 
not vitally necessary, if indeed they are not 
incongruous. A connection by a hyphen, a 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 217 

mere state of contiguity, is not enough. It 
is impossible not to see that many other 
events, such as the destruction of Jerusa- 
lem, the massacre of St. Bartholomew, or the 
martyrdoms at Smithfield, have just as vital 
a connection with the Scripture tragedy as 
have the monkish legend and the witchcraft 
trials. Having passed successively through 
the three parts of the Christus, it is as if we 
had gone from a primitive Christian temple 
into a dim and gorgeous mediaeval cathe- 
dral, and finally emerged from a many-win- 
dowed early-Massachusetts pine meeting- 
house. The changes are shocks. 

The story of the Divine passion in its ori- 
ginal form can never fail of impressing the 
most thoughtless ; but, so subtile are the 
threads of association, we find our thoughts 
and memories tied to the very words in 
which we first read it. A paraphrase or a 
commentary breaks the spell, as the fate of 
the new translation shows. The Gospel nar- 
ratives have been received into the mind in 



218 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

certain clear, forcible, and often picturesque 
phrases ; and they look fairer and sound 
more naturally in those phrases than they 
can ever do in verse. 

There is an objection of a different sort to 
" The New England Tragedies," which must 
be felt by antiquarians and others familiar 
with the history of the period ; although per- 
haps it may not occur to the general reader. 
It is that the several scenes are almost the 
actual chronicles versified ; and they are ter- 
rible chronicles, — full of heart-sickness to 
the sympathetic reader, and tending to make 
him reprobate the Puritans and their juris- 
prudence, as beyond the pale of charitable 
judgment. Of the fidelity of the pictures 
there cannot be the least doubt, but therein 
lies the horror of them. Rather than read of 
Giles Corey's fate, and those other dreadful 
deeds, a generous man (son of the Puritans 
though he be) would prefer to pass a pleasant 
afternoon in the Morgue, and contemplate, 
under the cool, trickling water, the forms of 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 219 

those beyond the reach of man's inhumanity 
to man. 

The objections lie to the choice of subjects 
as bases of poetry ; and the difficulty in each 
instance appears almost insuperable. The 
language of " The New England Tragedies " 
is properly vigorous and condensed ; that of 
" The Divine Tragedy" follows as closely as 
may be the words of the Gospel narrative ; 
and these do not easily form symmetrical and 
firmly built lines, but resemble rather the 
loose piles of pasture wall, which are easily 
shaken when even a light foot trips over 
them. It is freely admitted that none but a 
true poet could have written either ; the re- 
gret is, that, by attempting what is surely 
difficult, and apparently impossible, a rather 
mediocre success should be the result. The 
effect of " The New England Tragedies" 
upon the reader is depressing and painful 
to the last degree. There is no light, no 
relief, no escape from the fateful march of 
events. The Gospel story is finely harmo- 



220 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

nized from the four original narrations, and 
has many noble passages. Still, the feeling 
of stubborn resistance to any change from 
the early and universally received version 
remains, and will remain. 

THE HANGING OF THE CRANE. 

" The Hanging of the Crane " is a title that 
leads us to expect some rustic pleasantry con- 
nected with the beginning of wedded life and 
the responsibility of housekeeping. But the 
poem shoots swiftly ahead, and occupies itself 
with glimpses down the vista of time, which 
shift like the projections of the camera ob- 
scura. In successive scenes children appear, 
then new families, weddings, separations, and 
funerals. The poem is pitched upon a rather 
sombre key, and is not what a youthful poet 
would have made it, but is perhaps for that 
reason truer to human experience. The pic- 
ture in the illustrated edition of Longfellow's 
Poems shows us a handsome and thoughtful 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 221 

man, engrossed (to all appearance) in a book, 
while on an arm of his chair sits one of those 
well-known aids to study and reflection, a 
lovely woman, whose graceful head is poised 
for endearment rather than for any close at- 
tention to the volume. It is a sweetly pro- 
phetic picture ; but it is easy to see that the 
student will not make much headway until 
the scene changes. The lady might say, with 
Motherwell, — 

" Thy looks were on thy lesson, but 
My lesson was in thee." 

This poem was sold to Mr. Bonner, pub- 
lisher of the New York Ledger, by the 
agency of Mr. Samuel Ward (so we are told), 
for no less a sum than four thousand dollars. 
The Ledger is not severely literary, and has 
only occasionally indulged in such luxuries ; 
the last that we remember was the gift of ten 
thousand dollars to the Mount Vernon fund 
for a series of articles by the late Edward 
Everett. The prestige arising from the em- 
ployment of illustrious contributors was per- 



222 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

haps worth what it cost. It appears to have 
afforded intense gratification to Mr. Ward 
that the price (by the rule of three) was not 
greatly different from that paid to Tennyson 
for some similar work. 



MORITURI SALUTAMUS. 1 

The class of 1825 met at Bowdoin Col- 
lege on its fiftieth anniversary, in July, 1875. 
They were few in number. There were thir- 
teen members of the class living, of whom 
twelve were present. Besides Mr. Longfel- 
low, these were the Rev. Dr. Cheever, Charles 
J. Abbott, John S. C. Abbott, Hon. S. P. Ben- 
son, Hon. J. W. Bradbury, Horatio Bridge, 
Prof. Nathaniel Dunn, Rev. Dr. David Shep- 
ley, Allen Sawtelle, J. J. Eveleth, and a Mr. 

1 An allusion to the formula prescribed for the gladia- 
tors in accosting a Roman Emperor, when they were about 
to engage in deadly combat in his presence : " We who are 
about to die salute you." The venerable class of 1825 are 
thus represented as being about to die, and saluting their 
Alma Mater. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 223 

Stone, from Mississippi. The absent member 
was Mr. Hale, of Dover, N. H. 

A friend who was present says that the 
scene was indescribably affecting. The large 
audience was hushed to silence, and the low 
and pleasant but often tremulous tones of Mr. 
Longfellow's voice as he read the poem were 
clearly heard in every part of the church. 
Of the former instructors, one only, Prof. 
A. S. Packard, was living. The meeting of 
the class was sad, but affectionate and tender. 
Mr. Shepley, in referring to this meeting and 
to the appearance of Longfellow as he read 
the poem, says : — 

"How did we exult in his pure character arid 
his splendid reputation! With what delight did 
we gaze upon his intelligent and benignant coun- 
tenance, — with what moistening eyes listen to his 
words ! Just before leaving for our respective 
homes, we gathered in a retired college room for 
the last time, talked together a half-hour as of old, 
agreed to exchange photographs, and prayed to- 
gether ; then going forth under the branches of 
the old tree, in silence we took each other by the 



224 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

hand and separated, knowing well that Brunswick 
would not again witness a gathering of the class 
of 1825." 

To his class the poet says : — 

" Ye, against whose familiar names not yet 
The fatal asterisk of death is set, 
Ye I salute! The horologe of Time 
Strikes the half-century with a solemn chime, 
And summons us together once again, 
The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain." 

The poem is a noble one, scholastic, as the 
occasion required, but full especially of the 
intuitive love of the heart. It shows the poet 
in an unwonted demonstrative mood, glow- 
ing with memories of his youth, glowing too 
with the inborn affection which learning and 
fame had never cooled. 

Perhaps the final meditation upon old age 
is the most quotable passage : — 

"As the barometer foretells the storm 
While still the skies are clear, the weather warm, 
So something in us, as old age draws near, 
Betrays the pressure of the atmosphere. 
The nimble mercury, ere we are aware, 
Descends the elastic ladder of the air; 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 225 

The telltale blood in artery and vein 
Sinks from its higher levels in the brain; 
Whatever poet, orator, or sage 
May say of it, old age is still old age. 
It is the waning, not the crescent moon, 
The dusk of evening, not the blaze of noon : 
It is not strength, but weakness; not desire, 
But its surcease ; not the fierce heat of fire, 
The burning and consuming element, 
But that of ashes and of embers spent, 
In which some living sparks we still discern, 
Enough to warm, but not enough to burn. 

For age is opportunity no less 

Than youth itself, though in another dress, 

And as the evening twilight fades away 

The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day." 



KERAMOS. 

If there are evidences at times in some of 
the later poems of waning power, seen in the 
more sluggish current of thought, and in the 
more obvious, less vivid forms of expression, 
they are not in " Keramos." The concep- 
tion of this poem is very happy. We know 
there was a rude pottery in Portland where 

15 



226 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

the commoner wares were made, and the poet 
when a boy often saw the shaping and firing 
of the homely pots and pans. Beginning 
with this simple experience, his fancy soon 
takes wing, and from an aerial height looks 
down upon the various scenes in ages past 
in which this plastic art has been displayed. 
We are shown ancient Delft, with its quaint 
plates and beer-flagons ; Palissy at work with 
immortal fury to melt upon his wares an in- 
destructible enamel; Majorca, Faenza, Flor- 
ence, and Pesaro, with their wealth of color 
and imperishable beauty of design ; the saints 
and angels of Luca della Robbia ; the price- 
less relics of Etrurian and Grecian art; Asian 
and Egyptian images and vases ; the porce- 
lain of Cathay, including the nine-fold balco- 
nies of the tower of Nankin ; the quaint and 
inimitable jars of Japan, covered with birds, 
and alive with all colors of earth and sky. 
These successive scenes are done with swift, 
bright touches, and form a moving panorama 
of one of the most fascinating of arts. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 227 

This poem was published with costly illus- 
trations in Harper's Magazine, and attracted 
wide attention. It was afterwards collected 
with others in a volume under the title of 
" The Masque of Pandora, and Other Po- 
ems." " The Masque of Pandora " is a fine 
and nervous rendering of the old classi- 
cal story, containing passages of uncommon 
power. The character of Prometheus will 
not take high rank, as compared with the 
immortal portraitures celebrated in ages gone 
by ; for it is not the remorseful or vengeful 
Titan that is exhibited, but only the wise and 
wary artificer, who fears the gift of the gods, 
and is deaf to blandishments. It is a kind 
of side-light upon the ancient story, told with 
spirit and grace. 

POEMS OF PLACES. 

Here may be briefly mentioned a work of 
magnitude, edited by Mr. Longfellow, entitled 
" Poems of Places." The series comprises no 



228 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

less than thirty-one volumes. The plan was 
to gather poems in English relating to vari- 
ous localities. Thus, under the heads of "Ire- 
land," " Scotland," "France," &c. ? are collected 
whatever is descriptive of the scenery and 
historical events of those countries. This was 
a labor that extended over many years. Mr. 
Longfellow was greatly aided by Mr. John 
Owen, who was a publisher and bookseller 
in Cambridge forty years ago, and who was 
the original publisher of the " Ballads and 
Other Poems." Mr. Owen was a life-long 
friend of the poet ; and his taste and care- 
ful scholarship were of the greatest service. 
His attachment to his illustrious friend was 
strong and constant, reminding us of the most 
remarkable stories in history or fiction. Mr. 
Owen was greatly affected by Mr. Longfel- 
low's death, and followed him to the grave 
within a month. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 229 

A BOOK OF SONNETS. 

This contains the maturest of our poet's 
thoughts and the expression of his noblest 
feelings, and may stand as specimens of 
his almost perfect art. The group entitled 
" Three Friends of Mine," — referring to Fel- 
ton, Agassiz, and Sumner, who had all passed 
away, — has been mentioned before. The 
characterizations of Chaucer, Shakespeare, 
Milton, and Keats that follow are strong and 
individual, showing a poet's insight and fine 
propriety of tone. As a specimen of the 
sonnet, that upon Milton is best, because it 
contains the development of but one grand 
thought, that breaks with a wave-like roll at 
the end. The others have, however, a re- 
markable vividness and felicity of phrase. 
In the sonnets following, " The Galaxy," 
" The Sound of the Sea," and others, the 
reader feels auroral flashes and mysterious 
emanations as from the infinite, and is ex- 
cited by the tantalizing contiguity of ideas 



230 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

that attract him, yet baffle full comprehen- 
sion. 

These Sonnets form a magnificent constel- 
lation ; and it would seem that, though late 
in order, they had been slowly evolved, and 
each luminous point brought out years be- 
fore in perfect and steady lustre. If the 
early and popular favorites show the fresh 
heart and the unfailing melody of Longfel- 
low, these sonnets as fully attest his vigor- 
ous mind and his far-reaching imagination. 
We insert two which are perhaps as striking 
as any. 

" MILTON. 

"I pace the sounding sea-beach and "behold 
How the voluminous billows roll and run, 
Upheaving and subsiding, while the sun 
Shines through their sheeted emerald far unrolled, 

And the ninth wave, slow gathering fold by fold 
All its loose-flowing garments into one, 
Plunges upon the shore, and floods the dun 
Pale reach of sands, and changes them to gold. 

So in majestic cadence rise and fall 
The mighty undulations of thy song, 
sightless bard, England's Masonides ! 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 231 

And ever and anon, high over all 

Uplifted, a ninth wave, superb and strong, 
Floods all the soul with its melodious seas." 

"the galaxy. 

"Torrent of light and river of the air, 

Along whose bed the glimmering stars are seen 

Like gold and silver sands in some ravine 

Where mountain streams have left their channels barel 

The Spaniard sees in thee the pathway, where 
His patron saint descended in the sheen 
Of his celestial armor, on serene 
And quiet nights, when all the heavens were fair. 

Not this I see, nor yet the ancient fable 

Of Phaeton's wild course, that scorched the skies 
Where'er the hoofs of his hot coursers trod ; 

But the white drift of worlds o'er chasms of sable, 
The star-dust, that is whirled aloft and flies 
From the invisible chariot-wheels of God." 



AN" ESTIMATE. 

Whenever a poet of real merit is to be 
considered, it would appear necessary to 
make a new series of definitions, or to mod- 
ify much that has been previously written 
upon the essence of poetry. Nothing could 



232 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

be more disagreeable than to read, as of late, 
that Longfellow was the "poet of the com- 
monplace." It is true the critic made the 
statement with many qualifications, but the 
statement is itself a contradiction in terms. 
Poetry is the exact antithesis of the com- 
monplace ; it rejects both the thing and the 
manner. Poetry is the essence of thought, 
perceived or evolved by the imagination, 
and made palpable to the mind by fine in- 
tuitive suggestions. Poetry is necessarily 
twin-born with emotion, and never shows 
itself except by appealing to the sensibili- 
ties, as beauty, grandeur, terror, sympathy, 
love, or joy. The absolutely pure element 
of poetry even in classic poems is seldom a 
large part of the mass ; much of the staple of 
verse consists of the grosser material medium 
which holds the whole together. 

If the critic above referred to had said 
that Longfellow was the poet of common 
life, it would have been eminently true in 
one sense : in that his best-known poems are 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 233 

associated with the touching and sacred mo- 
ments of ecstasy and of sorrow, and come to 
the memory of all men like airs from the 
land of the blessed, with healing on their 
wings. Upon the basis of universal suffrage 
Longfellow would doubtless be the most 
popular poet of our time, and perhaps of any 
time ; for it is certain that his readers are 
more numerous than those of any poet ex- 
cept the Psalmist David. However, we do 
not abide by the decisions of universal suf- 
frage, but by the consensus of the great body 
of men of reading competent to form a judg- 
ment. If the number of volumes sold were 
the test of a poet's rank, there is another who 
would come very near ; yet no considerable 
number of educated men would consider that 
poet a rival of Longfellow. 

On the other hand, it is possible that a man 
of even superior gifts and graces might be 
less truly a poet if he chose to wrap his ideas 
in uncouth phrases, and strive for obscurity. 
Longfellow somewhere says : — 



234 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

" Some writers of the present day have intro- 
duced a kind of Gothic architecture into their 
style. All is fantastic, vast, and wondrous in the 
outward form, and within is mysterious twilight, 
and the swelling sound of an organ, and a voice 
chanting hymns in Latin, which need a translation 
for many of the crowd. To this I do not object. 
Let the priest chant in what language he will, so 
long as he understands his own mass-book. But 
if he wishes the world to listen and be edified, he 
will do well to choose a language that is generally 
understood." 

If one were to discourse upon poetry with 
Robert Browning in view, what would be- 
come of preconceived definitions ? Poetry 
might perhaps be defined as transcendent 
thought and exalted feeling moving in mu- 
sical rhythm. But where is the music of 
" The Ring and the Book " ? Only the most 
skilled reader can accentuate the lines with 
ease, and either a tripping or a leisurely grace 
of utterance is out of the question. Again, 
we may say that poetry is sometimes an ex- 
pression of the sense of beauty in the pres- 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 235 

ence of nature. Wliat of this is to be seen in 
Browning I WTiat apostrophes, what gems 
of description, what notes of* joy, are to be 
quoted I There are subtilties and cavernous 
pitfalls of thought, sharp dissections of char- 
acter, and hints of grand and poetical ima§ 
But the bints are seldom elaborated into 
those enduring forms which we love, and all 
the characteristics which we might separately 
admire are mere by-play in the development 
of complicated plots, the clows of which the 
most attentive reader will frequently lose. 

The beauty of lyrical movement is sel- 
dom, if ever, seen in Browning. Sis poems 
in some respects are like the rough, hollow 
globes of* stone called geodes, in which by 
a freak of nature crystals of quartz are en- 
closed like seeds in a melon. Without the 
geode is a dull shell of flinty hardness ; it 
is only when cracked by the mineralogist's 
hammer that the glittering clusters of gems 
are brought to light. Groat as Browning 
is, intellectually, the standard definitions of 



236 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

poetry must be modified before lie could be 
recognized as a poet at all. 

" Philosophical " poetry is, in a sense, a 
solecism. Philosophy, whether in the form 
of proverb or speculation, needs no music or 
measure. Proverbs are not necessarily poeti- 
cal; Bacon's aphorisms surely are not. "The 
whirl and delirium of song," or even its 
more placid movements, are antipathetic to 
philosophic serenity. Philosophy can never 
be the food, still less the pleasure, of any 
large number. Perhaps five thousand is a 
sufficient estimate of the readers of Plato in 
any generation. The Essays of Emerson, 
full of high thinking as they are, and full of 
intellectual stimulus also, are sealed books to 
most eyes. In coming times, when men are 
lifted to the level of philosophic thought, it 
may happen that philosophic poems will take 
the rank in popular estimation which they 
now have among the few. But for the pres- 
ent we must consider poetry as it affects the 
large average of intelligent men. We must 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 237 

not set up our standard for the few high 
souls, nor yet lower it to embrace the greater 
number of those who are pleased with mel- 
ody without thought. 

Although the greatest poets are not mod- 
era, still, as a whole, poetry is progressive, 
heightening in qualities, as well as growing 
in bulk ; and success is more and more diffi- 
cult as time goes by. 

As we look back, what faint gleams light 
up the alliterative lines of Langland ! what 
wretched rhymes we encounter in the hurdy- 
gurdy verse of Gower ! what meagre wit 
we find in the crabbed Scotch poets of the 
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ! Our lan- 
guage, it is true, has increased in resources, 
and grown more flexible to the poet's touch ; 
but the general progress in poetry is as 
much in its essential qualities as in the ex- 
ternal grace. 

What is to be the future of poetry who 
can say? With the advance of knowledge, 
the refinement of thought and expression, 



238 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

the sense of beauty may be revealed to the 
mind in new ways. More and more we find 
poetry diffused through rich prose ; but the 
concrete substance will not be exhausted 
thereby ; poetry is not to be dissolved or 
dissipated. 

The old forms will never return. The cold 
clarity of modern thought is not the medium 
for the visions of the Divina Commedia or 
of Paradise Lost. A contemporary Dante 
would wreak his noble rage upon the affairs 
of the world's surface, and not upon the 
dwellers of the under gloom. A new Milton 
would construct his aerial edifice under the 
visible sky. 

As for the drama, it has ceased to have a 
literary character. The future poet, what- 
ever he may do, will not write acting plays. 
The play has become nearly a pantomime, — 
an acted story with barely words enough to 
explain the situations. Shakespeare's theatre 
was at once school, salon, literary exchange, 
and oracle. Our theatre exists for diversion, 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 239 

and a successful play is like a pastry cook's 
wieringue, — the more unsubstantial, the bet- 
ter. Besides, as every one knows, the press 
now brings all thought to our homes, and 
we go to actors for wisdom and wit no 
more. 

Neither will the epic return. The nearest 
approach in our day is in the Arthurian 
poems ; but even these are separable, — not 
of necessity continuous; and, taking- them 
together, we feel little of the crescendo move- 
ment, the up-gathering of force, which char- 
acterizes the epic cycle. 

In modern poetry we see that the best 
effects are produced in efforts of moderate 
length. A poem is an enjoyment for a sit- 
ting. The exalted feeling which it is the 
work of poetry to excite is necessarily tran- 
sient. The movement of feeling is swift, and 
at the climax the ecstasy dies. If we look 
for the masterpieces of modern poets, we find 
them invariably short. Even narrative po- 
ems are strongly condensed, and we find 



240 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

that "Evangeline," for instance, is as long as 
the taste of our day allows. 

The principal quality, however, in mod- 
ern poetry is the universal recognition of 
high ideals in life, even among* the hum- 
blest, — in the doctrines of equality and 
brotherhood, — in the cultivation of toler- 
ance and charity, — in short, in the incul- 
cation of the true u gospel," or good news, 
of " peace on earth and good will towards 
men." In this way the scope of poetry has 
been enlarged, and its tone elevated immeas- 
urably. Though the doctrine be as old as 
the Christian era, its appearance and its com- 
manding influence in poetry are as new in 
this century as the spectrum analysis, or the 
doctrine of the correlation of forces. 

Two great poets have been born in Eng- 
land. Alter them there are a dozen or twenty, 
perhaps, about whose relative rank men will 
continue to differ. When the name of "po- 
etry n was new, it signified emotional thought, 
music, and rhythmical movement together. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 241 

The emphasis was literally marked by feet, 
and the measure was floated on musical 
Now the triple ecstasy exists no 
longer. The emphasis is marked, and the 
music is heard by an inner sense. It the 
ancient idea of poetry were to be insisted 
upon, there could riot, bo found half a dozen 
poets in a century. In our time they would 
be chiefly Swinburne, Shelley, Moore, and 
Tennyson. 

Swinburne finds the once crabbed English 
pliable as if molten to his touch, and the 
music of his linos is as exquisite as might 
be that of a fairy orchestra Tlio airy mel- 
ody of Tennyson's songs in " The Prin- 
" has never been surpassed, — not even 
by Shakespeare. Tins wonderful music the 
verse of Longfellow has never reproduced ; 
and yet its distinguishing features are pure 
melody and grace. 

The poem measures the poet, and it can- 
not bo as broad as humanity unless the 
poet is in himself a representative man. We 

16 



242 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

recognize, limitations in Longfellow, as we 
recognize them in all the poets for two cen- 
turies. We rarely find in him the thoughts 
that dazzle and strike like lightning; nor is 
he to be compared with some even of his 
own rank, in the sweep of imagination, still 
less in the intensity of feeling. The stream 
of his song has been 

" Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full." 

But his powers were rare, his studies and op- 
portunities helpful, his sense of proportion 
and of melody exquisite, his perception of 
beauty keen, his sympathy boundless ; and 
as he has addressed the hearts of all men 
he has been singing for over half a century 
with the world for an audience. It is easy 
to point out where he is inferior in isolated 
qualities to other poets ; but he has a totality 
of his own, embracing many elements in 
which even greater geniuses have no share; 
and in the extent and diversity of his works 
he stands the peer of any. If poets like Gray 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 243 

and Collins are immortalized by the few 
gems they added to our literature, what is 
to be said of Longfellow, who has produced 
fifty times as many, — most of them superior 
in force and beauty to the mosaics of the 
one, or the classic odes of the other 1 

The treasures of the whole world have 
been open to our many-languaged man ; the 
blossoms of every garden have yielded him 
perfumes ; and now in his verse we have the 
aroma distilled from millions of lilies and 
roses. He who has done this is not soon to 
fade from the memories of men. 



TRANSLATION OF DANTE. 

The translation of the " Divina Commedia," 
consisting of some eighteen thousand lines, 
and filling three large octavo volumes, is an 
undertaking of so much inherent difficulty, 
as well as magnitude, that a man might be 
pardoned if he should regard it as sufficient 
for his share in the work of the world. Yet 



244 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

this appears to have been done within a few 
years by Longfellow, pursuing his invariable 
method of Nulla dies sine linea, and without 
interrupting his other varied labors. It is a 
most impressive example of the wise econ- 
omy of time. 

It appears to be admitted that a perfect 
translation — like the existence of two iden- 
tical minds — is impossible. The difficulties 
have often been dwelt upon, as by Dante 
himself, by Cervantes, and by Dryden. To 
produce Dante's poem in English with the 
power, the allusions, and the beauties of the 
original, would require another Dante as 
translator. We observe that the Divine in- 
spiration takes upon itself the mental color- 
ing of the subject of its power : so that the 
Supreme Mind uses at one time the vehe- 
mence of Paul ; at another, the gentle and 
touching humility of John. So Dante's great 
work is bald prose in Cary, more poetical but 
still rugged in Eossetti, terse and trebly- 
rhymed in Parsons, or literally simple and 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 245 

beautiful in Longfellow. A few paragraphs 
are quoted from the opinion of an eminent 
Italian scholar : — 

" The directness and simplicity of Dante's dic- 
tion require of the translator a like directness 
and simplicity. The difficulty of preserving these 
qualities in a rhymed version is such as to make 
such a version practically impossible ; and the sym- 
pathy of the translator is shown by his discarding 
rhyme for the sake of preserving the more impor- 
tant elements of style The method of transla- 
tion which Mr. Longfellow has chosen is free alike 
from the reproach of pedantic literalness and of 

unfaithful license His special sympathy and 

genius guide him with almost unerring truth, and 
display themselves constantly in the rare felicity 

of his rendering In fine, Mr. Longfellow, in 

rendering the substance of Dante's poem, has suc- 
ceeded in giving also — so far as art and genius 
could give it — the spirit of Dante's poetry. Fit- 
ted for the work as few men ever were, by gifts of 
nature, by sympathy, by an unrivalled faculty of 
poetic appreciation, and by long and thorough cul- 
ture, he has brought his matured powers in their 
full vigor to its performance, and has produced an 



246 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

incomparable translation, — a poem that will take 
rank among the great English poems.'" l 

ULTIMA THULE. 

This boding title must have caused a pang 
of apprehension among the poet's wide circle 
of admirers. Years before there was a simi- 
lar shock when the great Emerson printed 
his "Terminus," and began his chant with 

" It is time to be old." 

Longfellow was gathering his last sheaves 
under a late autumn sky. The poems in 
this thin volume are few, but mostly memo- 
rable. By far the most noteworthy is the 
monody upon the death of Bayard Taylor. 
As Chibiabos in " Hiawatha" represented our 
poet as a singer, so with a few slight changes 
this would serve for a memorial of himself 
as a scholar. It is like a pure and perfect 
column of marble, faultless alike in design 

1 Professor Charles Eliot Norton, in the North American 
Review for July, 1867. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 247 

and execution. It would be difficult to find 
its parallel. 

"BAYARD TAYLOR. 

"Dead he lay among his books I 

The peace of God was in his looks. 

As the statues in the gloom 
Watch o'er Maximilian's tomb, 1 

So those volumes from their shelves 
Watched him, silent as themselves. 

Ah ! his hand will nevermore 
Turn their storied pages o'er ; 

Nevermore his lips repeat 
Songs of theirs, however sweet. 

Let the lifeless body rest! 

He is gone, who was its guest ; 

Gone, as travellers haste to leave 
An inn, nor tarry until eve. 

Traveller! in what realms afar, 
In what planet, in what star, 

In what vast, aerial space, 
Shines the light upon thy face ? 

1 In the Ilofkirchc at Innsbruck. 



248 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

In what gardens of delight 
Rest thy weary feet to-night? 

Poet ! thou, whose latest verse 
Was a garland on thy hearse ; 

Thou hast sung, with organ tone, 
In Deukalion's life, thine own ; 

On the ruins of the Past 
Blooms the perfect flower at last. 

Friend ! but yesterday the bells 
Rang for thee their loud farewells ; 

And to-day they toll for thee, 
Lying dead beyond the sea ; 

Lying dead among thy books, 

The peace of God in all thy looks ! " 

Longfellow's subsequent poems are few. 
" Hermes Trismegistus " appeared in the 
Century Magazine for February, and " Mad 
River among the White Mountains " in the 
Atlantic for May. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 249 

SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY. 
February 27, 1882. 

The Maine Historical Society made elab- 
orate preparations to celebrate the seventy- 
fifth anniversary of the poet's birth. The 
people of Maine, and of Portland especially, 
have a just pride in the fame of the illus- 
trious man whose ancestors had borne such 
a part in their history, and whose youth 
had been passed among them. His recollec- 
tions of his native city form one of the best 
and most admired of his poems. Bowdoin 
College claims a part of the renown of 
her favorite son. Her alumni among all 
the learned professions meet on common 
ground when his character and works are 
discussed. 

The subjects had been given to competent 
hands, and the proceedings form a full and 
excellent summary of the poet's ancestry, of 
his early career, and of his enormous labors. 
The Portland Advertiser's account on the 



250 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 

following day covered no less than eighteen 
columns. 

The opening address was delivered by the 
Hon. W. G. Barrows. Mr. James P. Baxter 
read a long and interesting poem entitled 
" Laus Laureati." The Rev. H. S. Burrage 
read a careful account of the Longfellow 
family. A very excellent memoir of the 
poet's grandfather, General Peleg Wads- 
worth, was read by the Hon. William Goold. 
Mr. Edward H. El well, editor of the Port- 
land Transcript, had prepared an historical 
retrospect of Portland, with bright and 
charming pictures of society and manners 
in the early part of this century. The ven- 
erable Prof. A. S. Packard, the poet's sole 
surviving instructor, gave a sketch of him 
as a student, and afterwards as Professor at 
Bowdoin. The Hon. Geo. F. Talbot read a 
beautiful and appreciative essay upon the 
Genius of Longfellow. The Hon. J. W. 
Bradbury, who was unable to be present, 
sent a letter. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 251 

Mr. Longfellow was too feeble to bear the 
journey and the excitement ; but numbers of 
his relatives attended the exercises. Portraits 
and various objects of interest were exhib- 
ited, and Mr. Baxter, the poet of the occa- 
sion, as he concluded his recital, crowned 
Longfellow's bust with a wreath from Deer- 
ing's Woods. Daring the day flags were 
flying everywhere, and the vessels in the 
harbor hoisted all their colors. It was a 
grand holiday, and business was generally 
suspended. 

Such an ovation was never given to an 
author in America before. It was a deep 
and spontaneous feeling of admiration and 
pride that found expression in the simple 
ceremonies. Generals, cabinet ministers, and 
senators come and go ; they have their brief 
season of honor and applause ; but poets, 
like the serene stars, shine on for ages. 



252 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW. 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 

The public are familiar with pictures of 
Longfellow taken at various stages in his 
life's journey, and it is not easy to add any- 
thing to the impressions which his fine fea- 
tures and thoughtful yet tender looks have 
made. But no picture of him of really high 
merit as a work of art has ever been made. 
The Lawrence portrait is admired by some, 
and that by Healy has fine points. The 
lithographic picture issued by the publish- 
ers of the Atlantic Monthly was undoubtedly 
a strong likeness as regards mere accuracy of 
lines ; but to some who knew the poet well, 
and loved him, it was almost a grave travesty. 
Photographs are numerous, and many of 
them excellent. Mr. Longfellow said to the 
writer that the one taken in Portland a few 
years ago appeared to him the most char- 
acteristic. ^In his youth, and during middle 
age, our poet was noted for his remarkable 
taste in dress, and in the arrangement of his 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 253 

fine hair. Indeed, he gave to the last the im- 
pression of a perfectly dressed man. 1 Later, 
when the hair whitened, it was allowed to 
grow and to disport itself at pleasure ; and 
it often made one think of the loosely piled 
crown of an ancient prophet. 

He was of middle height, certainly not 
more ; but almost every one who saw him 
for the first time thought him taller. An 
English tourist wrote of him as a tall man ; 
but as in the same article he mentioned the 
gray stone walls of the house, we cannot set 
much store by his observation. The poet's 
mother in her description of her father, Gen- 

1 It may appear a trifle, although with regard to some men 
no personal trait is trivial; but Longfellow had his hats from 
the same maker for over forty years. It is not necessary to 
name the hatter: all Boston knows him. He mentioned lately 
his recollections of Longfellow's exquisite dress, and especially 
between 1840 and 1850 when the Fox style prevailed, intro- 
duced by Daniel Webster. He said that Longfellow in a dark 
blue coat with gilt buttons, a buff waistcoat and black panta- 
loons, and with a well-brushed beaver (it was before the days 
of silk hats), was the most remarkable person that was to be 
seen on Washington Street. 



254 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

eral Wadsworth, sa) r s that he was not above 
middle height, but that " he bore himself so 
truly " that he produced a different impres- 
sion. It is evident that Longfellow resem- 
bled his mother's father in this dignity of 
presence and carriage. Mr. William Winter's 
description is pleasing and picturesque : — 

" His natural dignity and grace, and the beauti- 
tiful refinement of his countenance, together with 
his perfect taste in dress and the exquisite sim- 
plicity of his manners, made him the absolute ideal 
of what a poet should he. His Yoice, too, was 
soft, sweet, and musical, and, like his face, it had the 
innate charm of tranquillity. His eyes were blu- 
ish gray, very bright and brave, changeable under 
the influence of emotion, (as, afterward, I often 
saAV,) but mostly calm, grave, attentive, and gen- 
tle. The habitual expression of his face was not 
that of sadness ; and yet it was sad. Perhaps it 
may be best described as that of serious and ten- 
der though tfulness." l 

1 The New York Tribune, March 30, 1882. The whole 
letter is extremely interesting, and gives a better idea of the 
poet than any that has yet appeared. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 255 

Rather too much emphasis is laid upon the 
expression of sadness. One saw in looking 
at Longfellow that he was a man of deep 
and tender feelings, but his habitual expres- 
sion was far from sad. It was grave at times, 
but often lighted up with smiles ; and the 
consideration for others, which always dis- 
tinguishes noble natures, gave to his speech 
and manners an indescribable charm. His 
tact was intuitive and exquisite. He seemed 
to foresee a dilemma, and would not allow 
himself to be placed where he would be mis- 
judged; yet there was nothing that suggested 
timidity or a sinuous policy ; it was the man- 
ifestation of a wise, friendly, careful, and 
generous soul. 

Mr. Winter recalls instances of Longfel- 
low's genial humor, one of which may be 
quoted : — 

" Standing in the porch one summer day, and 
observing the noble elms in front of his house, he 
recalled a visit made to him long before by one of 
the many bards, now extinct, who are embalmed 



256 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

in Griswold. Then, suddenly assuming a burly, 
martial air, he seemed to reproduce for me the ex- 
act figure and manner of the youthful enthusiast, — 
who had tossed back his long hair, gazed approv- 
ingly on the elms, and in a deep voice exclaimed, 
4 1 see, Mr. Longfellow, that 3*011 have many trees ; 
I love trees ! ' fc It was,' said the poet, i as if he 
gave a certificate to all the neighboring vegeta- 
tion.' A few words like these, said in Longfel- 
low's peculiar, diy, humorous manner, with just a 
twinkle of the eye and a quietly droll inflection 
of the voice, had a certain charm of mirth that 
cannot be described." 

He was very methodical in the division of 
his time. The morning hours were devoted 
to work, and visitors were not admitted until 
after twelve o'clock. Only by patience and 
perseverance could his labors have been ac- 
complished. In him were happily combined 
two powders that are seldom seen together in 
equal poise. His first conceptions came like 
inspiration, and his first draughts of poems 
were done with exceeding rapidity. He al- 
lowed the first impulse to expend itself while 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 257 

he followed where inspiration pointed. But 
at that point, where too many poets stop, he 
had the power to return and go over the track 
of thought, condensing, amplifying, height- 
ening ; so that the poem, without losing its 
early and original charms, was wrought out 
in fair proportions, with nice gradations of 
tone, and given a melody that would haunt 
the reader forever. Although he could toil 
daily over his self-imposed tasks, and was 
able to finish a huge work like the transla- 
tion of Dante by the daily accretion of a very 
few lines, yet it must not be forgotten that 
he had his seasons of eager excitement, — 
the glorious, painful travail of genius ; and 
that in those supreme moments were pro- 
duced such pieces as " Sandalphon," " The 
Warden of the Cinque Ports," "The Fire of 
Drift-Wood," and " The Two Angels." 

Visitors were received in the south front 
room on the ground floor. This is a library, 
containing, among other things, the author's 
original manuscripts, bound in a long series 

17 



258 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

of volumes. Books, letters, and papers are 
on all sides. Tables, shelves, and even parts 
of the floor, are covered. On his writing- 
table were piles of letters, — many of them 
unanswered ; for the whole world during the 
last few years of his life seemed intent on 
burying him under piles of correspondence. 
He pointed on one occasion to a large mass 
of letters, over two hundred in number, and 
said to the author that the thought of them 
was distressing. He disliked to be consid- 
ered discourteous, but to answer all those 
people at his time of life was impossible. 




Upon that table are two famous inkstands. 
One belonged to Coleridge, and bears his 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 259 

name upon an ivory plate. The other was 
Crabbe's, and was given by Crabbe's son to 
Thomas Moore, and by him to S. C. Hall 
who also possessed that of Coleridge. Mr. 
Hall, in 1872, sent both to Longfellow, to- 




gether with Moore's waste-paper basket, by 
the hands of General James Grant Wilson. 
General Wilson has lately printed the letter 
which he received from Longfellow in re- 
turn l : — 

" Your letter and the valuable present of Mr. S. 
C. Hall have reached me safely. Please accept my 
best thanks for the great kindness you have shown 

1 The New York Independent, April 6, 1882. 



260 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

in taking charge of and bringing from the Old 
World a gift so precious as the inkstand of the 
poet who wrote the ' Rhyme of the Ancient Mari- 
ner.' Will you be so good as to send me the pres- 
ent address of Mr. Hall ? I wish, without delay, 
to acknowledge this mark of his remembrance and 
regard, and am not sure where a letter will find 
him." 

The general impression of that room is 
fixed in memory as upon a photographer's 
plate ; but it was so crowded with objects 
of interest that an enumeration would be dif- 
ficult. Every one will remember the crayon 
portraits before referred to, the fine bust of 
Prof. Gr. W. Greene, and the multitudinous 
books. 

The real study was in an upper room, to 
which none but intimate friends of the family 
were admitted. There in one corner, at a 
window looking out upon a lovely lawn, is 
the standing desk shown in the picture. At 
that desk were shaped the glowing images 
that remain to us more lasting memorials of 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 



261 



the poet than any which the grateful public 
shall raise. 




It has been mentioned that on social oc- 
casions the poet was habitually abstemious, 
and his whole life was an exhibition of per- 



262 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

feet self-control. It may be mentioned, how- 
ever, that like Tennyson, and like Lowell, his 
neighbor, he was fond of the allurements of 
tobacco, and always offered his visitor a 
cigar. Pipes he was not partial to, at least 
within doors, but on his walks, especially on 
frosty mornings, he often followed at a suit- 
able distance behind some laborer who was 
smoking a grimly colored " T. D." that Ten- 
nyson would have envied, and enjoyed the 
just perceptible odor of the peculiar thin blue 
smoke. 

He was never really robust, although his 
natural vigor was sufficient to sustain him in 
his labors and studies ; but his care for his 
health was continuous, and he persisted in 
out-door exercise even when it was far from 
agreeable. In the spring or autumn, when 
raw or blustering winds prevailed, he would 
wrap himself in warm garments and go out 
to walk, although he might do no more 
than pace along his veranda on the sheltered 
side of the house. His health was generally 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 265 

excellent, but for a few years before his 
death he suffered exceedingly from neuralgic 
pains. It is a remarkable fact that his sight 
was unimpaired to the last, and that he never 
had occasion to use glasses. 

His handwriting was peculiar, but very 
distinct. We give a few specimen lines of 
his manuscript, which have been very kind- 
ly furnished us by the family for this pur- 
pose. 

Referring once more to his correspondence, 
it should be said that his industry and self- 
sacrificing benevolence in giving counsel to 
young writers were commendable. His s}^m- 
pathy for the anxious aspirants for fame was 
inexhaustible. Nearly every writer of our 
time has borne testimony to this trait in let- 
ters published since the poet's death. Mr. 
Winter's letters have been referred to, but a 
very great number of similar tributes have 
been printed, which it is impossible even to 
mention. Such a mass of letters, with anec- 
dotes and traits, have appeared, that it would 



266 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

not be difficult to make a kind of Longfellow 
biography by the aid of a little industry and 
a pair of scissors. 

There are things, however, not known to 
the public ; and as in some instances they 
concern persons lately deceased or still liv- 
ing, they cannot now be mentioned, except in 
a general way. His personal charities were 
constant and large in amount. Many an 
author and artist has received not only un- 
solicited sympathy, but a substantial check 
in his hour of need. There are persons who 
will read this with grateful recollections and 
tears. 

Say what we will, the personality of a poet 
is an inevitable element of his fame. And 
proud as we may be of Longfellow's merited 
renown, we have an added respect and ad- 
miration growing out of his pure and noble 
life, his thoughtful kindness, and his unob- 
trusive benevolence. So that it may be 
doubted if the passing away of any of the 
great masters of our English speech would 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 267 

have made so deep an impression, or left 
such a void in the world. 

There is little room to mention the honors 
received, or the illustrious visitors enter- 
tained by the poet. Foreigners of distinc- 
tion were always taken to see him and his 
historic residence. Among the latest were 
the descendants of Counts Rochambeau and 
De Grasse, and the Emperor of Brazil. He 
was an honorary member of numerous learn- 
ed societies. In 1859 Harvard College con- 
ferred upon him the degree of LL. D. In 
June, 1868, the University of Cambridge in 
England made him D. C. L. On the 4th of 
July in the same year he visited the Queen 
at Windsor, by command ; and his reception 
is said to have been most cordial. In July, 
1869, the University of Oxford also conferred 
upon him the title of D. C. L. 

Throughout the Canadian provinces Long- 
fellow has been honored as much as if he 
were a subject of their Queen. In Nova 
Scotia the regard for him is especially strong; 



268 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

if the canonization of a poet were possible, 
he would be the patron saint of the Acadian 
peninsula. In Montreal and Quebec there 
seems to be no notion of a boundary line 
in literature. The sympathies of the writers 
in those cities have reached over to us ; 
and their touching articles since Longfel- 
low's death have made us feel more intense- 
ly the pulsation of the common blood in our 
veins. 1 

LAST HOURS. 

During several years past Mr. Longfellow's 
health was a matter of some solicitude to 
himself and friends. His eyes had not lost 
their lustre, and his voice was clear and 
steady ; but there was a sense of insecurity, 
though for no very apparent reason. He had 
suffered severely, often excruciatingly, from 
neuralgic pains, sometimes in the form of sci- 
atica ; and later he had been threatened with 

1 See in the Quebec Morning Chronicle for March 25, 1882, 
a warm-hearted and able article by Mr. George Stewart, Jr. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 269 

a still more formidable malady, from which 
he recovered. The writer saw him two weeks 
before his death, and well remembers his 
light and active step, his beaming counte- 
nance and cheery voice. He had not seemed 
in better health for years. The shadow of 
the last enemy had not fallen upon him. But 
in a few days the news was given out that he 
was seriously ill with peritonitis, and the 
daily bulletins had an ominous tone. He 
sank rapidly, and on the 24th of March, at 
a quarter past three p. m., he expired. His 
family and near relatives were with him. 

He was buried on Sunday, the 26th. There 
was a simple service at the house, conducted 
by the brother of the deceased, the Rev. 
Samuel Longfellow, in the presence of the 
family and a very few intimate friends. 
Among the latter were Ralph Waldo Emer- 
son, who has since died, Oliver Wendell 
Holmes, George William Curtis, Charles 
Eliot Norton, and George W. Greene. 

The bodv was carried to Mount Auburn 



270 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

Cemetery, and placed in his proprietary lot, 
on Indian Ridge, not far from the entrance. 
A memorial service was held later in the 
day in Appleton Chapel, in the College 
oTonnds, at which an immense audience was 
present. The family shrank from liaving a 
public funeral ; but if it could have been 
allowed, multitudes would have availed them- 
selves of the sad privilege of looking once 
more upon the venerated face. 

As has been said before, the newspapers 
w.ere filled with accounts of the dead poet. 
Elaborate biographies and critical estimates, 
with letters and anecdotes, were printed 
throughout the United States and Great Brit- 
aim Such universal interest has seldom, if 
ever, been shown. And it is certain that the 
demise of no living man would cause such 
wide-spread and lasting grief. 

The citizens of Cambridge have already 
taken measures to place a memorial statue 
near the house in which he lived, in an open 
field extending towards the Charles, the 



A BIOGRAPHICAL sketch. 271 

prospect of which he dearly loved and often 



sung. 



After the natural tears at parting, there 
could be no regret felt for the close of such 
a perfect and well-rounded life. From boy- 
hood he had borne his part, and had been 
faithful to the talents intrusted to him. His 
life had been not only without stain, but 
without shadow; it was a life that shone 
with a light like that of the blessed; it was a 
life full of toil, hut crowned with honor and 
with the full fruition of his hopes; it was 
a life hallowed by the purest affection, by 
the sweet solace of children, by the devoted 
love of friends, by the reverent respect of 
fellow-citizens and neighbors, and by the ab- 
solute worship of humble dependents, who 
knew his open and generous heart. 

He had accomplished a vast work, which 
had filled out the whole of his allotted time. 
He could have had little to regret; and 
having reached a period when, according to 
the Psalmist, the continuance of his strength 



272 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

would be only " labor and sorrow," he could 
calmly resign himself to the last great 
change, sustained by an immortal hope. 

In coming times the lover of poetry, as 
he visits Cambridge, will regard the poet's 
grave as a holy spot. The grand old house, 
let us hope, will remain as he left it, as long 
as Time shall spare it. And the sculptor will 
mould in bronze his venerated form and 
noble features in classic and enduring grace, 
so that something like his presence may be 
seen to overlook the beautiful landscape. 



APPENDIX. 



No. I. 

FROM THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE MAINE HISTOR- 
ICAL SOCIETY ON THE OCCASION OF LONGFEL- 
LOW'S SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY. 



ADDRESS OF THE HON. W. G. BARROWS, OF 
BRUNSWICK. 

I believe it to be a part of my pleasant duty 
to state the object of our meeting. 

The first notice of it which I saw in the news- 
papers mentioned it, if I remember rightly, as a 
meeting to do honor to the poet Longfellow on 
the occasion of his seventy-fifth birthday. Per- 
haps it would be more accurate to say that it is a 
meeting to testify our sense of the honor he has 
done to this, his birthplace. It is very little we 
can do to honor him whose own works have long; 
ago crowned him a king in the hearts of men, to 
bear sway wherever and so long as the English 
language is spoken or understood. 

18 



274 APPENDIX. 

We meet to claim for this good city the honor 
which from time immemorial has always been 
conceded to the birthplaces of poets and seers, — 
to do our part to link the name of " the dear old 
town " with his, as he has linked it in the loving 
description which he has given in the idyl of 
44 My Lost Youth." 

For a more potent reason than the chiselled in- 
scription on the ancient mill which links the name 
of Oliver Basselin with the Valley of the Vire, in 
all coming time, shall " the poet's memory here 
of the landscape make a part," because we know 
that the lyrics of our poet are indeed 

"Songs of that high art 
Which, as winds do in the pine, 
Find an answer in each heart," 

and we want to bear witness to this. 

More than this, we meet to testify our sense of 
personal obligation to him, not merely for the ex- 
quisite pleasure afforded by the wonderful melody 
of his verse, but for the didactic force that has 
impressed it on us that 

"All common things, each day's events, 
That with the hour begin and end, 
Our pleasures and our discontents, 
Are rounds by which we may ascend." 

It is no mere gospel of idle contentment with 
pleasant trifles that he has preached to us. Even 



APPENDIX. 275 

the dullest of us could not read him without being 
moved at least to strive to place ourselves on a 
higher plane, — Excelsior ! In ancient days poet 
and seer were convertible terms, and the best of 
our modern poets are prophets also. What in- 
sight was it which made him, in January, 1861, 
rouse us with 

"Listen, my children, and you shall hear 
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere," 

when all unconsciously we stood so near another 

and bloodier Lexington? 

Philanthropy of the purest, patriotism of the 

most exalted kind have by turns inspired him ; 

and whether he sings of the Slave's Dream, or 

the Warning of 

"The poor blind Samson in this land 
Shorn of his strength and bound in bonds of steel," 

or of the Cumberland sunk in Hampton Roads, 
or of the beautiful youth slain at the ford, the 
lesson was timely, and it told the story well of the 
heroism and endurance which carried this nation 
through its last great struggle triumphant. We 
meet to pass an hour in expressing our admiration 
for the bard, the scholar, and the patriot, since 
every utterance from his youth up has been fine 
and noble, and has tended to raise this nation in the 
scale of humanity. I am proud to say that when 
he lived with us he was an active member of this 



276 APPENDIX. 

society, and the ripe and golden fruits of his his- 
torical studies we have in the story of Priscilla 
the Puritan maiden, in the pensive loveliness of 
Evangeline, that tale of the " strength, submission 
and patience " of the Acadian refugees, and in the 
musical song of Hiawatha, and many another 
gem set in tuneful verse. But after all it seems 
to me that that which brings him nearer to our 
hearts, and has more to do with bringing us to- 
gether here to-night than his wide-spread renown 
or the fame that attaches to his more statety and 
elaborate poems, is the light which lie has thrown 
around home and hearth and heart in some of 
those lighter but unequalled lyrics which from 
time to time have "■ gone through us with a 
thrill," — which are haunting our memories still, 
and which are and will always be dear to us 
because dear to those whom we love. Who of 
us can think of home, now, and all that we hold 
dear in it, without somehow associating with it 
and them reminiscences of. the Footsteps of An- 
gels, the Golden Milestone, the Old Clock on the 
Stairs, the Children's Hour, the Fire of Drift- 
Wood, the Wind over the Chimney, and Day- 
break, and Twilight, and the Curfew, and the 
Psalm, and the Goblet of Life, and the Reaper 
and the Flowers ? And where can I stop, hav- 
ing begun to enumerate? 



APPENDIX. 277 

For nearly thirty years I have occupied the 
bouse he lived in when in Brunswick, — an old 

liouse whose first proprietors have long since 
passed away, — and I sometimes wonder whether 
it is, in his thought, one of the Haunted Houses 

"Through whose open doors 
Tin; harmless phantoms on their errands glide, 
With feet that make no sound upon the floors." 

Since the wonderful legend of Sandalphon first 
made a lodgment in my memoiy, more than a 
score of years ago, I cannot number the times I 
have been called upon to repeat it in the still- 
ness of the evening hour, and in the weary night 
watches, because its melodious numbers had in 
them a spell "to quiet the fever and pain" of 
one who has now for years breathed the fra- 
grance that is " wafted through the streets of 
the city immortal." And hence it is that " the 
legend I feel is a part of the hunger and thirst of 
the heart," and my warmest gratitude goes forth 
to him who ministered comfort to the invalid in 
the sweet strains that breathe unwavering faith 
and trust in the good All-Father. Hence I say 
that we meet here to express, not simply our ad- 
miration of the poet, our sense of obligation to 
the teacher, the patriot and philanthropist, but 
also our reverent affection for the man who has 



278 APPENDIX, 

done so much to brighten and cheer not only our 
own lives, but the lives of them we love, in sick- 
ness and in health. 

Not he the poet of despair, or morbid melan- 
choly, or depressing doubt, misbegotten by the 
wild self-conceit which assumes that the finite 
human intellect is capable of penetrating all 
mysteries because it has mastered some, and 
madly argues that it is a proof of superior wis- 
dom to reject everything it cannot understand. 
Not so he, but the part of a broad Christian 
faith and an unfading hope that " what we know 
not now, we shall know hereafter," if we strive 
in earnest to rise above u that which is of the 
earth, earthy." 

I think his motto in all his productions must 
have been, " Nee satis est pulchra esse poemata — 
dulcia sunto" 

"Tis not enough a poem's finely writ, 
It must affect and captivate the soul." 

If success can be predicated of any mortal life, 
surely his has been a success. 

The Maine Historical Society and their guests 
assembled at his birthplace to celebrate the birth- 
day of their former member, the renowned poet 
Longfellow, send him their fervent and united 
wishes for his health and happiness. 



APPENDIX. 279 



MEMOIR OF GENERAL PELEG WADSWOBTH, BY. THE 
HON, WILLIAM GOOLD, 01 W I WHAM. 

The pleasant duty assigned to me for thii occar 
hion i, fco trace the origin and hi/'-: of General 
Wadsworth, the maternal grandfather of Henry 
\V;i.'l iwoi f li Longfellow, - he irho had the mil- 
itary oversight of our frontier District of Maine, 
immediately after it vras found that the British 
Lodgment at Bagaduce in 177^ was intended to 
be permanent. 

Peleg Wadsworth was the son of Deacon Peleg 
Wadsworth of Duxbury, Massachusetts, and the 
fifth in descent from Christopher Wadsworth, who 
came from England and settled in that town 
previously to 1632, and whose known descendai 
in the United States are now numbered \>y thou- 
sands. 

Peleg Wadsworth, Jr. was born at Duxbury, 
May 6, 1748. He graduated at Harvard College 
in the class of 1769, which numbered thirty-nine, 
and included several honorable names, which 
added Lustre to the class. One of these was The- 
ophilus Parsons, who came to Falmouth as a 
school-teacher in 1770, and studied law witli The- 
ophilus Bradbury; butthe Revolutionary troubl 
drove him away, and he became Chief Justice 
of the Massachusetts Supreme Court. Another 



280 APPEXDIX. 

member of the class was Alexander Scammell, 
also of Duxbury, who, after a brilliant career in 
the American army, received an inhuman wound 
after being taken prisoner at the siege of York- 
town, of which he died a month after. Both 
Wadsworth and Scammell after graduation tausrht 
school at Plymouth. In 1772 Wadsworth mar- 
ried Elizabeth Bartlett of that town. Their 
children, through their mother and grandmother 
Wadsworth, who was Susanna Sampson, inher- 
ited the blood of five of the Mayflower pilgrims, 
including Elder Brewster and Captain John 
Alden. 

Immediately after the outrage at Lexington, 
Peleg Wadsworth raised a company of minute- 
men in the Old Colony, of which the Continen- 
tal Congress commissioned him Captain in Sep- 
tember, 1775. He was engineer under General 
Thomas in laying out the defences of Roxbury 
in 1776. He was in Colonel Cation's regiment, 
which formed a part of a detachment which was 
ordered to throw up intrenchments on Dorchester 
Heights, and was appointed Aid to General Ward 
when the heights were occupied in March. These 
works compelled Howe's fleet to leave Boston in 
haste. In 177 S Wadsworth was appointed Adju- 
tant-General of his State. 

In 1779 the British naval and army officers at 



APPENDIX. 281 

Halifax became sensible that they "were Buffering 
from American privateers which frequented the 
Penobscot waters, owing to their perfect knowl- 
edge oi the numerous coves and harbors which 
they eon Id run into at any time to avoid the 
British eruisers. 

The Admiral in command foresaw the advan- 
tage that would be Grained by establishing a naval 
and military post in this quarter as a harbor of 
refuge for ships and fugitive Loyalists, and to 
command the near coast and harbor, from whence 
they could obtain a supply of some kinds of ship- 
timber for the Royal dockyard at Halifax. This 
was the year after the French king had assumed 
our quarrel with the mother country, and had 
sent the large fleet and army to our assistance 
which gave the Colonies confidence, and made 
them more aggressive. 

In June, 1779, it was decided at Halifax to send 
Genera] McLane with a fleet to occupy Bagaduee, 
as the harbor best situated for their purpose. He 
arrived on the 12th of June, with nine hundred 
troops and eight or nine vessels, all less than a 
frigate, under the command of Captain Henry 
Mowatt, who had become detestable to all Amer- 
icans by his cruel burning of old Falmouth four 
years previous. The people of Maine appealed to 
the General Court of Massachusetts for protection. 



282 APPENDIX, 

and to have the invaders driven off by an imme- 
diate expedition before they could have time to 
complete their works of defence. The Massachu- 
setts Board of War were instructed bv the Legis- 
iature to collect a fleet, State and national, and, if 
necessary, to impress any private armed vessels in 
the harbors of the State into their service, under 
the promise of fair compensation for all losses 
and detention. The executive department of the 
Province was then composed of the Council, — 
there was no State Governor until the next year. 
The Council ordered Brigadier- Generals Thomp- 
son of Cumberland and dishing of Lincoln to 
detach severally six hundred men from each of 
their brigades, and form them into two regiments. 
General Frost of York was directed to detail three 
hundred men from his brigade for a reinforcement, 
if needed. 

The tleet consisted of nineteen armed vessels, 
carrying o44 guns, and convoying twenty-four 
transports. The flag-ship was the new Conti- 
nental frigate Warren. Of the others, nine were 
ships, six brigs, and three sloops. The command 
of the tleet was intrusted to Richard Saltonstall 
of Connecticut, an officer of some naval experi- 
ence. One hundred Massachusetts artillerists 
were embarked at Boston under their former 
commander, Lieut. -Col. Paul Revere, — he who 



APPENDIX 

'.' 
...». the H 
I , ■,-., in ] 7 i 6 'J he I - •: 

omon l- - 

mo h, M 

of r hich then ineloded ( 

I f f man '> : but no 

Peleg W; : ; A'Jju*. r / ;J of M 

rod jfj commands He I 

• . .' / [J 

the o( Bo iton and in otber 

intrust I oi r 

»/<■] I'". '•:<•,. 

The < [and r 'ounf •/ r ^ - ; ^ ; r / j ^ -, r j t, 

t,lj", command o\ r olonel Mitchel 
month, 'J be expedition irai popular* and 
people with ; zeaL I 

mouth and Cape Eliz 

om the most re- 
>le familfa 
[Jndei date of June 20, Parson Smith of I • 
• Peon 
State the inl 

dition to P in pui I be Bi i h ;'.' 

and 'i i. dition, 

fol irbicll Mannachu 
ponn 

When the fleet from 1 oi 



234 APPEXDIX. 

hend, now Boothbay, the place of rendezvous, 
General Lovell's land forces numbered less than 
one thousand men, who had been paraded to- 
gether only once, — then at Boothbay. They were 
raw militia who had seen no former service, ex- 
cept, perhaps, some individuals who had been in 
the Continental army for a short time. It was a 
spirited body of men. Their fathers had been at 
the siege of Louisburg thirty years before. In 
one month from the commencement to organize 
the expedition it made its appearance in Penob- 
scot Bay. 

The British commander heard of the American 
fleet four days before its arrival, and worked night 
and day to render his fortifications defensible, yet 
it was far from being completed. He at once 
despatched a vessel to Halifax, asking for assist- 
ance. On the 28th of July, after waiting two 
days jfor a calm, our vessels were drawn up in line 
of battle, and two hundred militiamen and two 
hundred marines were landed. The best landing- 
places were exposed to Mo watt's guns, and no 
landing could be effected except on the western 
side, which was a precipice 150 feet high, and 
very steep. This was guarded by a line of the 
enemy posted on the summit, who opened a brisk 
fire as soon as the boats came within gunshot, 
but the shot from the vessels went over their 



APPENDIX. 285 

heads. As soon as the men landed, the boats re- 
turned to the fleet, cutting off all means of retreat. 
No force could reach the summit in the face of 
such a fire of musketry, so the American troops 
were divided into three parties. One sought a 
practicable ascent at the right, one at the left, 
and the centre kept up a brisk fire to attract the 
attention of the enemy on the heights. Both the 
right and left parties gained the summit, followed 
by the centre, in the face of a galling fire, which 
they were powerless to return. Captain Warren's 
company of volunteers from Falmouth were the 
first to form on the heights, when all closed on the 
enemy, who, after a sharp skirmish, made their 
escape, leaving thirty men killed and wounded. 
Of the attacking party of four hundred, one hun- 
dred were killed or wounded. The engagement 
was short, but great pluck and courage were 
shown by the Americans. It has been said that 
no more brilliant exploit than this was accom- 
plished by our forces during the war ; but this is 
the only bright spot in the record of the expedi- 
tion. After the retreat of the enemy some slight 
intrenchments were thrown up by the sadly weak- 
ened little detachment, within seven hundred 
3'ards of the enemy's main works. These intrench- 
ments were held by our men, and thus was made 
a good beginning. 



286 APPENDIX. 

The same morning a council of war was called 

of the land and naval officers. The former wore 
tor summoning the garrison to surrender, but the 
Commodore and the most of his officers were op- 
posed to the measure. It was next proposed to 
storm the fort ; but the Commodore refused to 
land any more of his marines, as those at the first 
landing suffered severely. The land force alone 
was deemed insufficient for a successful attack 
on the works, and a whaleboat express was de- 
spatched to Boston for a reinforcement. General 
Lovell now commenced a regular investment of 
works bv zigzag trenches for Revere's insula- 
cient cannon, and approached to musket -shot 
distance of the fort, so that not one of the gar- 
rison dared to show his head above the embank- 
ments. 

It was afterwards ascertained that, if a surren- 
der had been demanded when first proposed, the 
commanding general was prepared to capitulate, 
so imperfect were his defences. Commodore Sal- 
tonstall was self-willed, and disagreed with Gen- 
erals Lovell and Wadsworth. During the two 
weeks delay the British strengthened their de- 
fences, and enclosed their works with ehevaux- 
de-frise, with an abatis outside of all, which ren- 
dered the storming project impracticable if the 
expected reinforcement had arrived. The Ameri- 



APPENDIX 287 

can Commodore kept tip a daily < ba 

an attempt to enter the harbor, hoi 
A ' / from the A nu 

cans informed the British commander oi an in- 
tended attack the next day, which p 
inci r 

On the 13th of August a lookout. vo~soJ brought 
General Lovell news that a Brii 

en tail iras entering Penobscot Bay, in • 
to General McLane't application to i; on 

the first discovery of the American fleet, A 
treat irai immediately ordered by General Lorell, 
and conducted by General Wa b in the 

night, o mnch skill that the irhole of the 

troop-, were on board the tran orered 

the enemy. The British iqnadron entered the 
harbor the next morning, consisting of one 

tmr gunsbip, one frij ad fire smaller 

. all under the command of Si/- John 

Collier, with tiU.i-itn hundred troop-; on board. 

Saltonstall kept bis position until the transpo 
retreated up the ri ■ ten a general broadside 

from Collii ip caused a disorderly flight, and 

a genera] chase and indiscriminate destruction of 
the American fleet. Several irere blown up 
their own crews, to prevent their falling into the 
bands of the enemy. 
The troops and crews of the left them 



28$ ArrKxr \ 



for the woods. Most of the officers and men 
the fleet ami army made their way through the 
woods guided by the Penobscot Indians, who were 
friendly to the Colonies through the war for in- 
dependence, Those straggling panics suffered 
everj privation before reaching the settlements, 
subsisting on such game and tish as they were 
able to obtain. A large number were piloted by 
the Indians to Fort Halifax, where thoy were 
I . aited and returned homo by the Konnoboo. 
A court of inquiry as to tho oauso of the failure 
of the expedition gave as their opinion, w Hut the 
principal reason of the failure of the expedition 
was the want of the proper spirit on the part of 
the Commodore. That the destruction of the tleet 
was occasioned essentially because of his not ex- 
erting himself at all in the time of the retreat, by 
opposing the enemy's foremost ships in pursuit. 
.... That General l.ovelh throughout the expe- 
dition and retreat, acted with proper courage and 
spirit; and had he been furnished with all the 
men ordered for the service, or been properly 
supported by the Commodore, he would probably 
have reduced the enem\ ." The court spoke in 
the highest terms of General Wads worth. Upon 
this report the General Court adjudged "that 
Commodore Saltonstall be incompetent ever after 
to hold a commission in the service of the State, 



'■ 

I 

I t 

■ ■ ■ 

> ftnet 

■ 

- 

At 

-ageon* i A tin - 

. P 

sum. . 

iee at 
the people from tbi* plundering, ti :ten%zl 



290 APPENDIX. 

Congress in 1780 ordered six hundred men to be 
detached from the three eastern brigades of the 
State, for eight months* service. Every soldier was 
ordered to march well equipped, within twenty- 
four hours after he was detached, or pay a line of 
sixty pounds currency, which was to be applied to 
procure a substitute. The command of the whole 
Eastern department, between the Piscataqua and 
St. Croix, was given to General Wadsworth, with 
power to raise more troops if they were needed. 
He was also empowered to declare and execute 
martial law over territory ten miles in width, 
upon the coast eastward of Kennebec, according 
to the rules of the American army. His head- 
quarters were established at Thomaston. For the 
purpose of protecting his friends, the General 
found it necessary to draw a line of demarkation 
between them and their foes. He issued a proc- 
lamation prohibiting any intercourse with the 
enemy. This paper, of which I have a copy, is 
dated at Thomaston, 18th April, 1780, and de- 
clares the penalty of military execution for any 
infringement of it. The people of the islands 
east of Penobscot to Union River, " from their 
exposed situation,*' were ordered to hold them- 
selves as neutrals. All persons joining the enemy 
were to be treated as deserters from the Ameri- 
can army. 



APPENDIX. 291 

This proclamation did not have the desired 
effect. The most bitter of the Tories supposed 
that they would be protected by General McLane, 
but be di (approved of their plundering. Cap- 
tain Mowatt of detestable memory, who was in 
command of the British squadron, was of a dif- 
ferent character, and encouraged their depre- 
dations, when they became very aggressive. A 
stanch friend of the American cause at Broad 
Bay, named Soule, vras shot in his bed, and bis 
wife was wounded. This drew from General 
Wadsworth another proclamation, denouncing 
death to any one convicted of secreting or giv- 
ing aid to the enemy. Soon after a man named 
Baum was detected in secreting and aiding Tories 
to reach Oastine. He was tried by court-martial, 
found guilty of treason, and General Wadsworth 
ordered his execution by banging the next morn- 
ing, which was carried into effect. Tin's effectu- 
ally checked the intercourse with Bagaduce. A 
daughter of Genera] Wads worth, in writing of the 
circum tance to a son-in-law, in 1834, said, "My 
mother lias told me that my father was greatly 
distressed at being obliged to execute the penalty 
of the law." Genera] Wadsworth's wife was with 

him at tint time. 

After the term of service of the six hundred 

troops had expired, General Wadsworth was left 



292 APPENDIX. 

with only six soldiers as a guard at his house, it 
beinsj his intention also to leave within a week or 
two. His family consisted of his wife and son of 
five years, and Miss Fenno of Boston, a particu- 
lar friend of Mrs. Wadsworth's. 

Made acquainted with his defenceless condi- 
tion by spies, General McLane, at Bagaduce, de- 
spatched a party of twenty-five men under Lieu- 
tenant Stockton to take him prisoner. They left 
their vessel four miles off and marched to his res- 
idence, arriving at about midnight, February 18, 
1781. The General had plenty of fire-arms in his 
sleeping-room, and when his house was entered 
by the enemy he made a determined defence, 
until he was shot in the arm, when he surren- 
dered, and was hurried off to the vessel. When 
he became weak from the loss of blood, he was 
set on a horse for the march. He suffered much 
from cold and pain from his wound. He was 
taken across the bay to Castine, and imprisoned 
in Fort George. He knew nothing for two weeks 
of the fate of his family, who had been exposed 
to the firing. At the request of General Wads- 
worth, General McLane sent a lieutenant with a 
boat's crew to Camden, across the bay, with let- 
ters to his family and to the Governor of the 
State, which were inspected previous to sealing. 
Finally, a letter was received from Mrs. Wads- 



APPENDIX. 293 

worth containing an assurance that they were 
unharmed. General McLane treated his prisoner 
very politely, inviting him to eat at his own 
table, with guai/d of an orderly-sergeant, but re- 
fused him a parole or exchange. In the spring, 
four months after his seizure, Mrs. Wads worth 
and Miss Fenno, with a passport from General 
McLane, arrived at Bagaduce, and were politely 
entertained at the fort for ten days. In the mean 
time orders had arrived from the commanding 
general at New York, in answer to a communica- 
tion from General McLane. Their purport was 
learned from a hint convej-ed to Miss Fenno by 
an officer, that the General was not to be ex- 
changed, but would be sent to some English 
prison. When Miss Fenno left she gave the Gen- 
eral all the information she dared to. She said, 
" General Wadsworth, take care of yourself." 
This the General interpreted to mean that he was 
to be conve}'ed to England, and he determined to 
make his escape from the fortress if possible. 
Soon after, a vessel arrived from Boston with a 
flag of truce from the Governor and Council, ask- 
ing for an exchange for the General, and bringing 
a sum of money for his use, but the request was 
refused. 

Major Barton, a resident of St. George's River, 
who had served the previous summer under Gen- 



294 APPENDIX. 

eral Wads worth, was a prisoner in the same room 
with him. After a long preparation, and by ob- 
taining a gimlet from the fort barber, they made 
their escape on the night of the 18th of June by 
passing through an opening previously and labo- 
riously made in the board ceiling with the gim- 
let, the marks of which were filled with bread. 
They adroitly evaded the sentinels, but got sep- 
arated in the darkness, both, however, getting off 
safely. 

They kept much in the shoal water of the 
shores, to prevent being tracked by the blood- 
hounds which were kept at the fort for that pur- 
pose. The two friends came accidental^ together 
on the next day. Major Barton dropped a glove 
in the darkness, which pointed out to their pursu- 
ers the route they had taken on leaving the fort. 
They however found a canoe, got across the riv- 
er, and pursued their course through the woods 
by a pocket compass to the settlements, and were 
assisted to Thomaston, after much suffering. On 
arriving at his former residence, General Wads- 
worth found that his family had left for Bos- 
ton, whither he followed them, after a brief 
stop at Falmouth, where he finally fixed his resi- 
dence. 

Here is a note from the General's daughter, 
mother of our poet : — 



APPENDIX. 285 

" Perhaps yon would Like to see my father's picture 
it was when ire came to this town after the war of 
the Revolution, in 1784. [magine to your elf a man of 
middle size, well-proportioned, with a military air, and 
who carried him lelf bo truly that many thought bim tall. 
His dress, a bright scarlet coat, buff small-clothes and 
vest, full ruffled bosom, raffles over the hands, white 

Stockings, shoes with Silver buckles, white cravat how in 

front, hair well powdered and tied behind in a club, o 

called Of his character others may speak, but I 

cannot forbear to claim for him an uncommon share of 

benevolence and kind feeling. 

" Z. W. L. 
"January, 1848." 

In 171)7, President Dwight of 5Tale College, 
who bad been a chaplain in the American army, 
visited Portland, and was the guest of General 
Wad s worth, from whom be says he "received an 
uninterrupted succession of civilities." He also 
received from the General and wrote out a minute 
and thrilling account of bis capture, imprison- 
ment, and escape, winch covers twenty-five printed 
pages. Genera] Wadsworth, at the time of its 
publication, vouched for its accuracy. 1 

The record of the births of his eleven children 
shows the places where the General lived at the 
time. The oldest was born at Kingston, Mass., 

1 See Dwigbt'f Travels in Now England. 



296 APPENDIX. 

in 1774, and died the next year at Dorchester. 
Charles Lee was born at Plymouth, January, 1776, 
and died at Hiram, Sept. 29, 1848. Zilpah was 
born at Duxbury, Jan. 6, 1778 ; died in Portland, 
March 12, 1851. Elizabeth, born in Boston, Sept. 
21, 1779; died in Portland, Aug. 1, 1802. John, 
born at Plymouth, Sept. 1, 1781 ; graduated H. C. 
in 1800 ; died at Hiram, Jan. 22, 1860. Lucia, 
born at Plymouth, June 12, 1783 ; died in Port- 
land, Oct. 17, 1864. Henry, born at Falmouth, 
Me., June 21, 1785; killed at Tripoli, Sept. 4, 
1804. George, born in Portland, Jan. 6, 1788; 
died in Philadelphia, April 8, 1816. Alexander 
Scammell, born in Portland, May 7, 1790 ; died 
at Washington, April 5, 1851. Samuel Bartlett, 
born in Portland, Sept. 1, 1791 ; died at Eastport, 
Oct. 2, 1874. Peleg, born in Portland, Oct. 10, 
1793 ; died at Hiram, Jan. 17, 1875. 

The birth of a son in Plymouth, Sept. 7, 1781, 
shows that General Wadsworth took his family 
there on leaving his command in Maine. A daugh- 
ter was also born there in 1783. It is known that 
he came to Falmouth in 1784. In December of 
that year he purchased of John Ingersoll of Bos- 
ton, shipwright, for one hundred pounds lawful 
money, the lot of land in Falmouth on which he 
erected his buildings for a home. In the deed he 
is named of that town. The purchase is described 



APPENDIX 297 

as " lying northeast of a lot now possessed by- 
Captain Arthur McLellan, being four rods in 
front, and running towards Back Cove, and con- 
taining one and one half acres." This is the Con- 
gress Street lot on which he erected his house 
and store. 

Dr. Deane in his Diary says his store and barn 
were built in 1784. While he was building his 
house, he with his family lived in a building at 
the south corner of Franklin and Congress Streets, 
belonging to Captain Jonathan Paine. It was 
built for a barn, but probably had been occupied 
before as a dwelling, as it escaped Mo watt's burn- 
ing ten years before, which compelled well-to-do 
people to occupy very humble quarters. This 
building was long afterwards finished for a dwell- 
ing-house by Elijah Adams, and burned in 1866. 
In the spring of 1785, General Wadsworth made 
preparation to erect his house. There had then 
been no attempt in the town to construct all the 
walls of a building of brick ; indeed, there had 
been no suitable brick for walls made here. At 
that time brick buildings were expected to have a 
projecting base of several courses, the top one to 
be of brick fashioned for the purpose, the outer end 
of which formed a regular moulding when laid on 
edge and endwise, and the walls receded several 
inches to the perpendicular face. Several houses 



298 APPENDIX. 

besides General Wadsworth's were commenced 
in this way. In the spring of 1785 the General 
obtained brick for his house in Philadelphia, 
including those for the base and a belt above 
the first story. John Nichols was the master 
mason. 

Although the house was to be of only two sto- 
ries, the walls were built sixteen inches thick, 
strong enough for a church tower. This required 
more bricks than had been expected, and at the 
close of the season the walls were not completed. 
There was no alternative but to secure the ma- 
sonry from the weather, and wait for another 
spring. When that came more bricks were im- 
ported, and "the house that Jack (Nichols) 
built" was finished. It is yet standing, and shows 
good work in the artistic window-caps of brick. 
There was no other brick house built in town 
until three years after. The Wadsworth house, 
when originally finished, had a high pitched roof 
of two equal sides, and four chimneys. The store 
adjoined the house at the southeast, with an en- 
trance door from the house, and was of two sto- 
ries. Here the General sold all kinds of goods 
needed in the town and country trade. His name 
appears in the records, with some iovtj others, as 
licensed " retailers " of the town in 1785. What 
time he gave up the store is uncertain. The late 



APPENDIX. 299 

Edward Howe occupied it in 1805, who described 
it to me. 

General Wadsworth was elected to the Massa- 
chusetts Senate in 1792, and the same year he 
was elected Representative to Congress, being the 
first from Cumberland District, and was success- 
ively elected to that office until 1806, when he 
declined a re-election. In 1798 the citizens of 
Portland gave him a public dinner, in approba- 
tion of his official conduct. Captain William 
Merrill related to me the circumstance, that when 
the seat of government was removed from Phila- 
delphia to Washington, in 1801, General Wads- 
worth took passage in his vessel for Baltimore, 
that being the most speedy and comfortable way 
to reach Washington. 

In 1790, General Wadsworth purchased from 
the State of Massachusetts 7,500 acres of wild 
land in the township which is now Hiram, on the 
Saco River. The price paid was twelve and a 
half cents per acre. He immediately commenced 
to clear a farm on a large scale, as is shown by a 
paragraph in the Eastern Herald of September 
10, 1792, published in Portland. It says : " Gen- 
eral Wadsworth thinks he has raised more than 
one thousand bushels of corn this season on burnt 
land, that is now out of danger of the frost, at a 
place called Great Ossipee, about thirty-six miles 



300 APPENDIX. 

from this town. This is but the third year of his 
improvements." In 1790 the township contained 
a population of 186. 

In 1795, General Wadsworth settled his son 
Charles Lee on his tract, and in 1800 he prepared 
to remove his own family there. In that year he 
began to build a large house on his land purchase, 
which is yet standing, one mile from Hiram vil- 
lage. The clay for the bricks of the chimneys 
was brought down Saco River three miles in a 
boat. This house was of two stories, with a railed 
outlook on the ridge between the two chimneys. 
There was a very large one-story kitchen adjoin- 
ing, with an immense chimney and fireplace. 
Years after its building, the General's youngest 
son Peleg said that at the time of the erection 
of the house he was seven years old, and was left 
by his father to watch the fires in the eleven fire- 
places, which were kindled to dry the new ma- 
sonry, while he rode to the post-road for his mail, 
and that he had not felt such a weight of respon- 
sibility since. 

The General took his family and household 
goods to his new home in the first of the winter, 
and commenced housekeeping in the new house, 
January 1, 1807. He, with his son Charles Lee, 
engaged in lumbering and farming. General 
Wadsworth was a skilful land surveyor and 



A PPENDIX. 301 

draftsman, and was much employed in the new 
township. He was chosen Selectman in 181 2, 
and re-elected annually until 1818, and was twelve 
years Town Treasurer. He was a magistrate, and 
was looked upon as the patriarch of the town. 
He was a patron of education, and his home was 
the central point of the region for hospitality and 
culture. He was long a communicant of the Con- 
gregational Church, and so continued until his 
death in 1829, at the age of eighty-one. Mrs. 
Wadsworth died in 1825. Their graves are in a 
private enclosure on the home farm. The original 
modest headstones have given place to a more 
conspicuous monument of marble. The son Peleg, 
who was thirteen years old when the family 
moved to Hiram, spent the remainder of his life 
in that town, and died in 1875, at the age of 
eighty-one. It is a remarkable fact that General 
Wadsworth and his sons Charles Lee and Peleg, 
who all lived and died at Hiram, each reared 
eleven children. For the facts relating to General 
Wadsworth's life at Hiram I am indebted to his 
great-grandson, Llewellyn A. Wadsworth, who has 
in preparation a history of that town. 

Two of the sons of General Wadsworth were 
officers in the United States navy. Henry be- 
came a lieutenant at the age of nineteen, and was 
attached to the schooner Scourge, in Commodore 



302 APPENDIX. 

Preble's squadron before Tripoli, in 1804. The 
last entry in his journal before the attack in 
which he lost his life was this: "We are in daily 
expectation of the Commodore's arrival from Sy- 
racuse with the gun-boats and bomb-vessels, and 
then, Tripoli, be on thy guard." The story of his 
sad death is told in the inscription on a marble 
cenotaph erected by his father to his memory, in 
the Eastern Cemetery in Portland, near the graves 
of the captains of the Enterprise and Boxer. 

It is from this gallant officer, his uncle, that the 
poet Longellow received his baptismal name. 

The General's ninth child was Alexander Scam- 
mell Wads worth, born in Portland in 1790. 
When the Constitution frigate fought her memo- 
rable battle, in August, 1812, in which she cap- 
tured the British frigate Guerriere, after having 
her three masts shot away by the Americans, 
Alexander Wads worth w r as second lieutenant of 
the victorious ship. The first lieutenant, Morris, 
was severely wounded early in the action, when 
Lieutenant Wadsworth of course took his place, 
then only twenty-four. So well did he acquit 
himself that his fellow-townsmen of Portland 
presented him with a sword for his gallantry. 
Lieutenant Wadsworth was an officer on board 
the ship which conveyed our Minister, Joel Bar- 
low, to France in 1811, and was presented with 



APPENDIX. 



303 



[S. IV. Face.] 



[S. E. Face.] 



In Memory of 
HENRY WADSWORTH, 

SON OF 

PELEG WADSWORTH, 

LIEUT. U. S. NAVY, 

WHO FELL 

BEFORE THE WALLS OF TRIPOLI 

ON THE EVE OF 4th SEPT. 

1804 

IN THE 20th YEAR OF HIS AGE 

BY THE EXPLOSION OF A 

FIRE SHIP 

WHICH HE WITH OTHERS 

GALLANTLY CONDUCTED 

AGAINST THE ENEMY. 



Determined 
At once they prefer Death 

AND THE 

Destruction of the Enemy 

to Captivity 

and 

Torturing Slavery. 

Com. Preble's Letter. 



[X. E. Face.] 



[N. W. Face.] 



MY COUNTRY CALLS 
THIS WORLD ADIEU 

I HAVE ONE LIFE 
THAT LIFE I GIVE FOR YOU 

Capt. RICHARD SOMERS. 

Lieut. HENRY WADSWORTH. 

Lieut. JOSEPH ISRAEL. 

AND IO BRAVE SEAMEN 

VOLUNTEERS 

WERE THE DEVOTED 

BAND. 



An 


Honor to his 




Country 


And 


an Example to 


all Excellent 




Youth. 




Resolve 0/ Congress, 



MARBLE CENOTAPH IN PORTLAND CEMETERY, ERECTED TO 
LIEUT. HENRY WADSWORTH. 



304 APPENDIX. 

a sword by that gentleman. The Lieutenant rose 
to the rank of Commodore, and died in Washing- 
ton in 1851, aged sixty-one. 

Another of the children of General Wadsworth, 
Zilpah, performed her part in life as bravely, and 
died as much beloved and honored, as did her gal- 
lant brothers of the navy. She was born in Dux- 
bury, January 6, 1778, while her father was in 
the army. When the family first occupied the 
brick house in Portland, she was eight years old, 
and recollected the inconveniences and discom- 
forts of the unfinished quarters in which they lived 
while the house was building. 

In 1799, June 25, Zilpah Wadsworth, in behalf 
of the ladies of Portland, presented a military 
standard to a volunteer company called the Fed- 
eral volunteers. It was the first uniformed com- 
pany in Maine. Joseph C. Boyd was captain, 
and the ensign who received the standard and 
replied to the presentation address was named 
Wiggin. In after years Mrs. Longfellow de- 
scribed to her daughters the rehearsal of her 
speech, and the waving of the banner on the back 
steps of her fathers house to her sister, who per- 
sonated Ensign Wiggin. The presentation was 
from the front portico of that historic mansion. 
The street has been filled up since then, hiding 
the stone steps. The motto on the flag was, " De- 



APPENDIX. 305 

fend the Laws." On one side were painted the 
arms of the United States, and on the other the 
same, united with the arms of Massachusetts. 

In 1804, Zilpah Wadsworth became the wife 
of Stephen Longfellow, and first kept house in 
a two-story wooden building, yet standing on the 
south corner of Congress and Temple Streets. 
When her father's family left the brick house for 
a new home in the country, in 1807, she, with a 
family of a husband and two sons, took the old 
homestead. Mr. Longfellow moved the store, 
and in its place built the brick vestibule at the 
east corner, over which he placed a modest sign 
which was there within my knowledge ; it read, 
" Stephen Longfellow, Counsellor at Law." He 
occupied the eastern front room for his law office, 
opening from the brick entry. In this office, 
several young students read Coke and Black- 
stone, who became prominent lawyers of Cum- 
berland County. 

One day in 1814 or 1815, while Mrs. Longfellow 
was indisposed, and the family physician was in 
attendance, the servant overheated the kitchen 
flue, which took fire and communicated it to the 
attic, of which the family knew nothing until it 
broke out through the roof. Mr. Longfellow was 
the chief fire-ward of the department; but his 
first thought was of his sick wife, whom he hastily 

20 



.-> 



06 APPENDIX. 



inquired for of Dr. Weed. He told Mr. Long- 
fellow to look to the fire, and he would take care 
of his wife. When it became evident that the 
house must be flooded, the Doctor, who was a 
tall, muscular man, wrapped Mrs, Longfellow in 
a blanket and carried her in his arms into Madam 
Preble's, the next door, now the hotel. A lady of 
the family, who was then a child, described the 
scene to me. Her first realization of the danger 
was from seeing her father standing on a post of 
the front fence, with a brass trumpet to his mouth, 
giving loud orders to the gathering firemen, and 
gesticulating violently. After it had nearly de- 
stroved the roof, the fire was extinguished. 

To increase the accommodations for his large 
family, Mr. Longfellow added to the house a third 
story, and a low four-sided or " hipped " roof 
took the place of the high two-sided one, with 
the chimneys the same. And thus repaired, the 
venerable structure, around which so much of his- 
torical interest clusters, has remained to the pres- 
ent time. Although overshadowed and crowded 
upon by its more pretentious neighbors, it is more 
inquired for now by strangers than any other 
house in the city. May the polite and refined 
descendant of its builder, who is now its mistress, 
long continue to preside there and dispense its 
traditional hospitalities ! 



APPENDIX, 

No. II. 
GENEALOGIES. 



GENEALOGY OF GENERAL PELE FORTH 

I. 
'I'm. ancestor of the name in the Old Colony 

Cbbutofhbr Waj/ itorth, or, a- it, w,r; early abridged, 
Xtofer Wadda worth, from STorkehire, Eng,, irhere 
then; U a town of the lame name. He wu one of 
the earli lew of Duxbury, M 

Jn \<>'.'>'.',, be v.;' . chosen Let Constable of the town, then 
an office of trnet and 

1010. He •■■•■'; choeeii Deputy, or Etepreeentai 

10^0. Selectman, •everal timet re-elected 

1680. tie died probably. 

1677. July 31, hi; will is dated. Eft £70 3 l. Hii 
irife was Grace. 

ff. 

1638. Hi 2d wn John 8 [3-2] was bom. 

1007. John 2 m. Abigail Andi inghter of Joseph. 

July 25. She wa-; b. 1017, and d. J 723; be 

d. 1700, May Int.h; was a DeaCOfl of the 

Church in Duxbury. 



308 APPENDIX. 



III. 

His son John 3 [14-3] b. 1671, Mar. 12. 

1704. M. Mercy Wiswell, June 25. 

1718. M. 2d wife, Widow Mary Verdie of Boston ; had 

six children, all by first wife except Mary, the 

youngest, b. 1721. 
1750. He died, May 3, aged 78 years. 

IV. 

1715. His son Peleg [41-5] was born, Aug. 29. 
1740. M. Susanna Sampson ; was a Deacon. 

V. 

1748. His son General Peleg [82-5] was b. May 6, 
at Duxbury ; taught school at Plymouth. 

1765. He entered Harvard College. 

1769. Graduated Harvard College. 

1772. June 18th, m. Elizabeth Bartlett, who was born 
Aug. 9, 1753, at Plymouth, and d. 1825, July 
20th, at Hiram, Me. She was daughter of 
Samuel Bartlett, Esq., by his second wife, 
Elizabeth Lothrop Witherell, and great-great- 
granddaughter of the 1st Eobert Bartlett, who 
was b. in Eng. in 1603. Peleg [82-5] had 
1 1 children, 8 sons and 3 daughters, and d. at 
Hiram, Me., 1829, Sept. 29, set. 81 years. 

1775. He joined the Continental army at Koxbury. 
Captain of a company of minute-men. 



APPENDIX. 309 

1776. Commissioned by Congress as Captain, and em- 
ployed by Gen. Thomas as Engineer in laying 
out the lines of defence in Itoxbury and Dor- 
chester, and was Aid to Maj.-Gen. Ward when 
the Heights were occupied. 

1778. Appointed Adj. -Gen. Mass. Militia. 

1779. Was second in command under Gen. Lovell on 

Penobscot expedition. 

1781. W T as attacked, shot, and captured at So. Thomas- 
ton in February, carried to Castine, and im- 
prisoned by the British in Fort George, whence 
he made his remarkable escape in June. (See 
Dwight, Journal, etc.) 

1784. Established himself in Portland, Me., and built 
the first brick house erected there, 1784-85. 

1792. Chosen Senator to Massachusetts Legislature. 

1792. Chosen first Representative to the U. S. Congress 
at Philadelphia, and served 14 years. 

1 798. Received a public dinner from citizens. 

1806. Declined a re-election to Congress, and retired 

to private life. 

1807. Moved to Hiram, Oxford Co., Maine, and im- 

proved one third of the township, which was 
granted to him for his military services by 
the Legislature. It was called on the map 
Hiram, or Wads worth Grant. 
1829. Died at Hiram, Me. 



310 APPENDIX. 



DESCENT OF LONGFELLOW FROM JOHN ALDEN. 

His mother, Zilpah Wadsworth, was daughter of Gen- 
eral Peleg Wadsworth, who was son of Deacon Peleg 

W. of Duxbury, born 1715, died , and of Susanna 

Sampson, born 1720, married 1740. Susanna was 
daughter of John Sampson, who was born 1688, and 
was married, 1718, to Priscilla Bartlett, born 1697, died 
1758. John Sampson was son of Stephen S., born 
about 1650, and of Priscilla Paybodie, born 1653. 
Priscilla was daughter of William Pabodie, who was 
born 1620, married 1644, and died 1707, and of Eliza- 
beth Alden, born 1625, died 1717. Elizabeth was 
daughter of John Alden and Priscilla Mullen, who came 
in the Mayflower. 



ANOTHER LINE OF DESCENT. 

Ruth Pabodie, daughter of William Pabodie and Eliz- 
abeth Alden, was married in 1672 to Benjamin Bart- 
lett; and their daughter Priscilla, having married John 
Sampson in 1718, was the mother of Susanna Sampson, 
the mother of General Peleg Wadsworth. 



APPENDIX. 311 



No. III. 



[From the New York Tribune, April 2, 1882.] 

LONGFELLOW. 

BY WILLIAM WINTER. 

Alone, at night, he heard them sigh, 

These wild March winds that beat his tomb ; 

Alone, at night, from those that die 
He sought one ray to light his gloom. 

And still he heard the night-winds moan, 
And still the mystery closed him round, 

And still the darkness, cold and lone, 
Sent forth no ray, returned no sound. 

But Time at last the answer brings, 
And he, past all our suns and snows, 

At rest with peasants and with kings, 
Like them the wondrous secret knows. 

Alone, at night, we hear them sigh, 

These wild March winds that stir his pall ; 

And, helpless, wandering, lost, we cry 
To his dim ghost to tell us all. 

He loved us, while he lingered here ; 

We loved him, — never love more true ! 
He will not leave, in doubt and fear, 

The human grief that once he knew. 



312 APPENDIX. 

For never yet was born the day, 

When, faint of heart and weak of limb, 

One suffering creature turned away, 

Unhelped, unsoothed, uncheered by him ! 

But still through darkness dense and bleak 
The winds of March moan wildly round. 

And still we feel that all we seek 
Ends in that sigh of vacant sound. 

He cannot tell us — none can tell — 
What waits behind the mystic veil ! 

Yet he who lived and died so well, 
In that, perchance, has told the tale. 

Not to the wastes of Nature drift — 
Else were this world an evil dream — 

The crown and soul of Nature's gift, 
By Avon or by Charles's stream. 

His heart was pure, his purpose high, 
His thought serene, his patience vast ; 

He put all strifes of passion by, 

And lived to God, from first to last. 

His song was like the pine-tree's sigh 
At midnight o'er a poet's grave, 

Or like the sea-bird's distant cry, 
Borne far across the twilight wave. 

There is no flower of meek delight, 
There is no star of heavenly pride, 

That shines not sweeter and more bright 
Because he lived, loved, sang, and died. 



A PPENDIX. 313 

Wild winds of March, his requiem sing ! 

Weep o'er him, April's sorrowing skies ! 
Till come the tender (lowers of Spring 

To deck the pillow where he lies ; — 

Till violets pour their purple flood, 
That wandering myrtle .shall not lack, 

And, royal with the summer's blood, 
The roses that he loved come back ; 

Till all that Nature gives of light, 

To rift the gloom and point the way, 
Shall sweetly pierce our mortal night) 

And symbol his immortal day! 



314 APPENDIX. 

No. IV. 

CORBESPONDENCE WITH CHARLES LANMAN. 1 



[From the New York Tribune, April 1-3, 1882.] 

The Wreck of the Hesperus ; Norman's Woe; Long- 
fellow, Sumner, and Whittier, with Major Ben 
Perlet Poore, at Indian Hill. 

In 1871, while exhibiting a portfolio of my 
sketches in oil for a nephew of Air. Longfellow, 
we stumbled upon a view of Norman's Woe, near 
Cape Ann, when he remarked, " My uncle should 
see that picture, for I know it would greatly in- 
terest him." On the next day, accordingly, I 
packed up the picture, and, with another, — a 
view on the coast of Nova Scotia, the home of 
Evangeline, — sent it off by express to Mr. Long- 

1 Mr. Lanman is at once an artist and an author, and is 
widely known from his works. The genial Irving called 
him "the picturesque explorer of America." He was for- 
merly the private secretary of Daniel Webster, afterwards a 
librarian in Washington, and has now for the past ten years 
been the American Secretary of the Japanese Legation. He 
announces for publication a volume entitled "Haphazard 
Personalities." 



APPENDIX. 315 

fellow, accompanied by a note of explanation, in 
which I recalled the fact of our meeting many 
years before at the house of Park Benjamin, in 
New York, who was the first to publish the poem 
about the Hesperus, and who paid for it the pit- 
tance of twenty-five dollars. The letter which 
Mr. Longfellow sent me in return, worth more 
than a thousand sketches, was as follows: — 

Cambridge, November 24, 1871. 

My dear Sir, — Last night I had the pleasure of 
receiving your friendly letter and the beautiful pictures 
that came with it; and I thank you cordially for the 
welcome gift and the kind remembrance that prompted 
it. They are both very interesting to me; particularly 
the reef of Norman's Woe. What you say of the ballad 
is also very gratifying, and induces me to send you in 
return a hit of autobiography. 

Looking over a journal for 1839, a few days ago, I 
found the following entries : — 

" 1 )<c( ,„.})(■,' 17. — News of shipwrecks, horrible, on 
the coast. Forty bodies washed ashore near Gloucester. 
One woman lashed to a piece of wreck. There is a 
reef called Norman's Woe, where many of those took 
place. Among others the schooner Hesperus. Also, 
the Seaflower, on Black liock. I will write a ballad on 
this. 

"December 30. — Wrote last evening a notice of All- 
ston's Poems, after which sat till one o'clock by the fire, 
smoking; when suddenly it came into my mind to write 



316 APPENDIX. 

the ballad of the schooner Hesperus, which I accord- 
ingly did. Then went to bed, but could not sleep. 
New thoughts were running in my mind, and I got up 
to add them to the ballad. It was three by the clock." 

All this is of no importance but to myself. However, 
I like sometimes to recall the circumstances under which 
a poem was written ; and as you express a liking for this 
one, it may perhaps interest you to know why and when 
and how it came into existence. I had quite forgotten 
about its first publication ; but I find a letter from Park 
Benjamin, dated January 7, 1840, beginning (you will 
recognize his style) as follows : — 

" Your ballad, ' The Wreck of the Hesperus,' is grand. 
Enclosed are twenty-five dollars (the sum you mentioned) 
for it, paid by the proprietors of ' The New World,' in 
which glorious paper it will resplendently coruscate on 
Saturday next." 

Pardon this gossip, and believe me, with renewed 

thanks, yours faithfully, 

Henry W. Longfellow. 

During the summer of 1873, while spending a 
few weeks at Indian Hill, in Massachusetts, the 
delightful residence of Ben Perley Poore, it was 
again my privilege to meet Ml*. Longfellow. He 
had come down from Nahant with his friend, 
Charles Sumner, for the purpose of visiting, for 
the first time, the Longfellow homestead in New- 
bury. After that visit he came by invitation, 
with the Senator, to Indian Hill, where they en- 



APPENDIX. 317 

joj^ed an early dinner and a bit of old wine, after 
which Mr. Poore took ns all in his carriage on a 
visit to the poet John G. Whittier, at Amesbury. 
The day was charming, the route we followed was 
down the Merrimack, and very lovely, and the 
conversation of the lions was of course delightful. 
We found Mr. Whittier at home, and it was not 
only a great treat to see him there, but a noted 
event to meet socially and under one roof three 
such men as Whittier, Sumner, and Longfellow. 
The deportment of the two poets was, to me, 
most captivating. The host, in his simple dress, 
was as shy as a schoolboy, while Mr. Longfellow, 
with his white and flowing hair, and jolly laugh- 
ter, reminded me of one of his own Vikings ; and 
when Mr. Whittier brought out and exhibited to 
us an antislavery document which he had signed 
forty years before, I could not help recalling some 
of the splendid things which that trio of great 
men had written on the subject of slavery. The 
drive to Newburyport, whence Mr. Sumner and 
Mr. Longfellow were to return to Nahant, was 
not less delightful than had been the preceding 
one ; and the kindly words which were spoken of 
Mr. Whittier proved that he was highly honored 
and loved by his noted friends, as he is by the 
world at large. Before parting from Mr. Longfel- 
low he took me one side and spoke with great in- 



318 APPENDIX. 

terest of the old homestead he had that morning 
visited, and expressed a wish that I should make 
a sketch of it for him, as it was then two hundred 
years old, and rapidly going to decay. On the 
following morning I went to the spot and com- 
plied with his request ; a few weeks afterward I 
sent him a finished picture of the house, not for- 
getting the well-sweep and the old stone horse- 
block, in which he felt a special interest ; and he 
acknowledged the receipt of the picture in these 
words : — • 

Cambridge, October 18, 1873. 

My dear Sir, — I have had the pleasure of receiving 
your very friendly note, and the picture of the old home- 
stead at Newbury, for both of which I pray you to ac- 
cept my most cordial thanks. Be assured that I value 
your gift highly, and appreciate the kindness which 
prompted it, and the trouble you took in making the 
portraits of the old house and tree. They are very exact, 
and will always remind me of that pleasant summer day 
and Mr. Poore's chateau and his charming family, and 
yours. If things could ever be done twice over in this 
world, which they cannot, I should like to live that day 
over again. 

With kind regards to Mrs. Lanman, not forgetting a 
word and a kiss to your little Japanese ward (Ume 
Tsucla), I am, my clear sir, yours truly, 

Henry W. Longfellow. 



APPENDIX. 319 



No. V. 

[From "The Independent," April 6, 1882.] 

MR. LONGFELLOW'S EARLY POEMS. 

HITHERTO OMITTED FROM ALL AMERICAN COLLECTIONS. 

Of Mr. Longfellow's juvenile poems, published 
mostly in a forgotten magazine, he recovered only 
seven, which he allowed to remain in his collec- 
tions under the title of " Earlier Poems." They 
have, however, been collected in England by 
Richard Heme Shepherd, and published by Pick- 
ering & Co. From that volume we reprint them, 
omitting those which are made familiar by Long- 
fellow's own preservation of them. Mr. Shep- 
herd says in his Preface : — 

" Seventeen out of the twenty-one poems that com- 
pose this little volume appeared during the years 1824- 
26 in a brief-lived fortnightly Transatlantic magazine, 
entitled 'The United States Literary Gazette.' The 
author had not completed his eighteenth year when the 
first of them appeared, and had only just passed his 
nineteenth when the last was published. An exact ac- 
count of the dates of their appearance will not be with- 
out interest. 



320 APPENDIX. 

" Poems by H. W. Longfellow in the United States 
Literary Gazette. 

I. 

Thanksgiving. 'When first in ancient time from Jubal's 
tongue.' Nov. 15, 1824. 

II. 

Autumnal Nightfall. ' Round Autumn's mouldering 
urn.' Dec. 1, 1824. - 

III. 

Italian Scenery. ' Night rests in beauty on Mont Alto.' 
Dec. 15, 1824. 

IV. 

The Lunatic Girl. 'Most beautiful, most gentle!' Jan. 
1, 1825. 

V. 

The Venetian Gondolier. ' Here rest the weary oar ! ' 
Jan. 15, 1825. 

VI. 

Woods in Winter. ' When winter winds are piercing 
chill.' (Partly reprinted in the Earlier Poems.) Feb. 1, 

1825. 

VII. 

Dirge over a Nameless Grave. 'By yon still river, 
where the wave.' March 14,1825. 



APPENDIX. 321 

VIII. 

A Song of Savoy. ' As the dim twilight shrouds.' March 
15, 1825. 

IX. 

An April Day (reprinted). April 15, 1825. 

X. 

The Indian Hunter. ' When the summer harvest was 
gathered in.' May 15, 1825. 

XL 
Hymn of the Moravian Nuns (reprinted). June 1, 1825. 

XII. 
Sunrise on the Hills (reprinted). July 1, 1825. 

XIII. 

Jeckoyva. 'They made the warrior's grave beside.' Aug. 
1, 1825. 

XIV. 

The Sea Diver. ' My way is on the bright blue sea.' Aug. 
15, 1825. 

XV. 

Autumn. 'With what a glory' (reprinted). Oct. 1, 1825. 

XVI. 

Musings. ' I sat by my window one night.' Nov. 15, 1825. 

XVII. 

Song. ' Where from the eye of day.' April 1, 1826. 

21 



822 APPENDIX. 

"And here the contributions dropped, nor did the 
magazine itself (which contained also contributions from 
other men who have since risen to celebrity) long- 
survive. 

" The curious part of the affair is that Longfellow, 
when issuing his first collected volume of poems, thir- 
teen years later ('Voices of the Night,' Boston, 1839), 
thought it worth while to include five (by no means the 
best) of these early pieces, but did not care to rescue the 
other twelve (not only the larger, but by far the better 
portion of these juvenilia) from their oubliette. 

"'Most of Mr. Longfellow's poetry,' writes George 
Cheever, in 1831, 'indeed, we believe nearly all that 
has been published, appeared, during his college life, in 
the United States Literary Gazette. It displays a 
very refined taste and a very pure vein of poetical feel- 
ing. It possesses what has been a rare quality in the 
American poets, — simplicity of expression, without any 
attempt to startle the reader, or to produce an effect by 
far-sought epithets. There is much sweetness in his im- 
agery and language ; and sometimes he is hardly excelled 
by any one for the quiet accuracy exhibited in his pic- 
tures of natural objects. His poetry will not easily be 
forgotten.' 1 

" To such praise we need add little ; nor is it our in- 
tention to enter into detailed criticism of these slight 
first-fruits of Longfellow's muse. If the savor of them 

1 " The American Commonplace Book of Poetry, with 
Occasional Notes." By George B. Cheever. Boston, 1831. 



APPENDIX. 323 

is sweet, the reader will not be ungrateful to us for cull- 
ing them from the tangled wilderness where they lay un- 
heeded and in danger of perishing." 

THANKSGIVING. 

When first in ancient time from Jubal's tongue 

The tuneful anthem filled the morning air, 

To sacred hymnings and elysian song 

His music-breathing shell the minstrel woke. 

Devotion breathed aloud from every chord : 

The voice of praise was heard in every tone, 

And prayer, and thanks to Him the Eternal One, 

To Him, that with bright inspiration touched 

The high and gifted lyre of heavenly song, 

And warmed the soul with new vitality. 

A stirring energy through Nature breathed : 

The voice of adoration from her broke, 

Swelling aloud in every breeze, and heard 

Long in the sullen waterfall, — what time 

Soft Spring or hoary Autumn threw on earth 

Its bloom or blighting, — when the Summer smiled, 

Or Winter o'er the year's sepulchre mourned. 

The Deity was there ! — a nameless spirit 

Moved in the breasts of men to do Him homage ; 

And when the morning smiled, or evening pale 

Hung weeping o'er the melancholy urn, 

They came beneath the broad o'erarching trees, 

And in their tremulous shadow worshipped oft, 

Where pale the vine clung round their simple altars, 

And gray moss mantling hung. Above was heard 

The melody of winds, breathed out as the green trees 

Bowed to their quivering touch in living beauty, 



324 APPENDIX. 

And birds sang forth their cheerful hymns. Below 
The bright and widely wandering rivulet 
Struggled and gushed amongst the tangled roots 
That choked its reedy fountain, and dark rocks 
Worn smooth by the constant current. Even there 
The listless wave, that stole with mellow voice 
Where reeds grew rank on the rushy-fringed brink, 
And the green sedge bent to the wandering wind, 
Sang with a cheerful song of sweet tranquillity. 
Men felt the heavenly influence, and it stole 
Like balm into their hearts, till all was peace ; 
And even the air they breathed, the light they saw, 
Became religion ; for the ethereal spirit 
That to soft music wakes the chords of feeling, 
And mellows everything to beauty, moved 
With cheering energy within their breasts, 
And made all holy there, — for all was love. 
The morning stars, that SAveetly sang together, 
The moon, that hung at night in the mid-sky, 
Day spring, and eventide, and all the fair 
And beautiful forms of nature, had a voice 
Of eloquent worship. Ocean with its tides 
Swelling and deep, where low the infant storm 
Hung on his dun, dark cloud, and heavily beat 
The pulses of the sea, sent forth a voice 
Of awful adoration to the spirit 
That, wrapt in darkness, moved upon its face. 
And when the bow of evening arched the east, 
Or, in the moonlight pale, the curling wave 
Kissed with a sweet embrace the sea- worn beach, 
And soft the song of winds came o'er the waters, 
The mingled melody of wind and wave 
Touched like a heavenly anthem on the ear ; 



APPENDIX. 325 

For it arose a tuneful hymn of worship. 
And have owr hearts grown cold? Arc there on earth 
No pure reflections caught from heavenly Light? 
Have our mule lips no hymn, — our souls no song 1 
Let him thai in the summer day of youth 
Keeps pure the holy fount of youthful feeling, 
And him that in the nightfall of his y 
Lies down in bis Lasl deep, and shuts in pea* e 
I In dim pale eyes on life's short wayfaring, 
Praise him that rules the destiny of man. 
Sunday Evening, October, 1824. 



AUTUMNAL NIGHTFALL. 

Round Autumn's mouldering urn 

Loud mourns the chill and cheerless gale, 
When nightfall shades the quiet vale, 
And stars in beauty burn. 

'Tis the year's eventide. 
The wind, like one that sighs in pain 
O'er joys that ne'er will bloom again, 

Mourns on the far hillside. 

And yet my pensive eye 
Rests on the faint blue mountain long, 
And for the fairy-land of song, 

That lies beyond, 1 sigh. 

The moon unveils her brow ; 
In the mid-sky her urn glows bright, 
And in her sad and mellowing light 

The valley sleeps below. 



326 APPENDIX. 

Upon the hazel gray 
The lyre of Autumn hangs unstrung, 
And o'er its tremulous chords are flun^ 

The fringes of decay. 

I stand deep musing here, 
Beneath the dark and motionless beech, 
Whilst wandering winds of nightfall reach 

My melancholy ear. 

The air breathes chill and free ; 
A Spirit in soft music calls 
From Autumn's gray and moss-grown halls, 

And round her withered tree. 

The hoar and mantled oat, 
With moss and twisted ivy brown, 
Bends in its lifeless beauty down 

Where weeds the fountain choke. 

That fountain's hollow voice 
Echoes the sound of precious things ; 
Of early feeling's tuneful springs 

Choked with our blighted joys. 

Leaves, that the night- wind bears 
To earth's cold bosom with a sigh, 
Are types of our mortality, 

And of our fading years. 

The tree that shades the plain, 
Wasting and hoar as time decays, 
Spring shall renew with cheerful days, — 

But not my joys again. 



APPENDIX. 327 



ITALIAN SCENERY. 

Night rests in beauty on Mont Alto. 

Beneath its shade the beauteous Arno sleeps 

In Vallombrosa's bosom, and dark trees 

Bend with a calm and quiet shadow clown 

Upon the beauty of that silent river. 

Still in the west a melancholy smile 

Mantles the lips of day, and twilight pale 

Moves like a spectre in the dusky sky ; 

While eve's sweet star on the fast fading year 

Smiles calmly. Music steals at intervals 

Across the water, with a tremulous swell, 

From out the upland dingle of tall firs, 

And a faint footfall sounds where dim and dark 

Hangs the gray willow from the river's brink, 

O'ershadowing its current. Slowly there 

The lover's gondola drops clown the stream, 

Silent, save when its dipping oar is heard, 

Or in its eddy sighs the rippling wave. 

Mouldering and moss-grown, through the lapse of years, 

In motionless beauty stands the giant oak, 

Whilst those that saw its green and flourishing youth 

Are gone and are forgotten. Soft the fount, 

Whose secret springs the star-light pale discloses, 

Gushes in hollow music, and beyond 

The broader river sweeps its silent way, 

Mingling a silver current with that sea, 

Whose waters have no tides, coming nor going. 

On noiseless wing along that fair blue sea 

The halcyon flits, and where the wearied storm 

Left a loud moaning, all is peace again. 



328 APPENDIX. 

A calm is on the deep ! The winds that came 
O'er the dark sea-surge with a tremulous breathing, 
And mourned on the dark cliff where weeds grew rank 
And to the autumnal death-dirge the deep sea 
Heaved its long billows, with a cheerless song 
Have passed away to the cold earth again, 
Like a wayfaring mourner. Silently 
Up from the calm sea's dim and distant verge, 
Full and unveiled the moon's broad disk emerges. 
On Tivoli, and where the fairy hues 
Of autumn glow upon Abruzzi's woods, 
The silver light is spreading. Far above, 
Encompassed with their thin, cold atmosphere, 
The Apennines uplift their snowy brows, 
Glowing with colder beauty, where unheard 
The eagle screams in the fathomless ether, 
And stays his w T earied wing. Here let us pause ! 
The spirit of these solitudes — the soul 
That dwells within these steep and difficult places — 
Speaks a mysterious language to mine own, 
And brings unutterable musings. Earth 
Sleeps in the shades of nightfall, and the sea 
Spreads like a thin blue haze beneath my feet, 
Whilst the gray columns and the mouldering tombs 
Of the Imperial City, hidden deep 
Beneath the mantle of their shadows, rest. 
My spirit looks on earth ! A heavenly voice 
Comes silently : " Dreamer, is earth thy dwelling ? 
Lo ! nursed within that fair and fruitful bosom 
Which has sustained thy being, and within 
The colder breast of Ocean, lie the germs 
Of thine own dissolution ! E'en the air, 
That fans the clear blue sky, and gives thee strength, 



APPENDIX. 329 

Up from the sullen lake of mouldering reeds, 

And the wide waste of forest, where the osier 

Thrives in the damp and motionless atmosphere, 

Shall bring the dire and wasting pestilence 

And blight thy cheek. Dream thou of higher things ; 

This world is not thy home !" And yet my eye 

Rests upon earth again ! How beautiful, 

Where wild Velino heaves its sullen waves 

Down the high cliff of gray and shapeless granite, 

Hung on the curling mist, the moonlight bow 

Arches the perilous river ! A soft light 

Silvers the Albanian mountains, and the haze 

That rests upon their summits mellows down 

The austerer features of their beauty. Faint 

And dim-discovered glow the Sabine hills, 

And, listening to the sea's monotonous shell, 

High on the cliffs of Terracina stands 

The castle of the royal Goth 1 in ruins. 

But night is in her wane : day's early flush 
Glows like a hectic on her fading cheek, 
Wasting its beauty. And the opening dawn 
With cheerful lustre lights the royal city, 
Where with its proud tiara of dark towers 
It sleeps upon its own romantic bay. 



THE LUNATIC GIRL. 

Most beautiful, most gentle ! Yet how lost 
To all that gladdens the fair earth ; the eye 
That watched her being ; the maternal care 

1 Theodoric. 



830 APPENDIX. 

That kept and nourished her ; and the calm light 

That steals from our own thoughts, and softly rests 

On youth's green valleys and smooth -sliding waters ! 

Alas ! few suns of life, and fewer winds, 

Had withered or had wasted the fresh rose 

That bloomed upon her cheek ; but one chill frost 

Came in that early Autumn, when ripe thought 

Is rich and beautiful, and blighted it ; 

And the fair stalk grew languid day by day, 

And drooped, and drooped, and shed its many leaves. 

'T is said that some have died of love, and some, 

That once from beauty's high romance had caught 

Love's passionate feelings and heart-wasting cares, 

Have spurned life's threshold with a desperate foot : 

And others have gone mad, — and she was one ! 

Her lover died at sea ; and they had felt 

A coldness for each other when they parted ; 

But love returned again, and to her ear 

Came tidings that the ship which bore her lover 

Had suddenly gone down at sea, and all were lost. 

I saw her in her native vale, when high 

The aspiring lark up from the reedy river 

Mounted on cheerful pinion ; and she sat 

Casting smooth pebbles into a clear fountain, 

And marking how they sunk ; and oft she sighed 

For him that perished thus in the vast deep. 

She had a sea-shell, that her lover brought 

From the far-distant ocean, and she pressed 

Its smooth cold lips unto her ear, and thought 

It whispered tidings of the dark blue sea ; 

And sad she cried, " The tides are out ! — and now 

I see his corse upon the stormy beach ! " 

Around her neck a string of rose-lipped shells, 



APPENDIX. 331 

And coral, and white pearl, was loosely hung, 

And close beside her lay a delicate fan, 

Made of the halcyon's blue wing ; and when 

She looked upon it, it would calm her thoughts 

As that bird calms the ocean, — for it gave 

Mournful, yet pleasant memory. Once I marked, 

When through the mountain hollows and green woods 

That bent beneath its footsteps the loud wind 

Came with a voice as of the restless deep, 

She raised her head, and on her pale cold cheek 

A beauty of diviner seeming came : 

And then she spread her hands, and smiled, as if 

She welcomed a long-absent friend, — and then 

Shrunk timorously back again, and wept. 

I turned away : a multitude of thoughts, 

Mournful and dark, were crowding on my mind, 

And as I left that lost and ruined one, — 

A living monument that still on earth 

There is warm love and deep sincerity, — 

She gazed upon the west, where the blue sky 

Held, like an ocean, in its wide embrace 

Those fairy islands of bright cloud, that lay 

So calm and quietly in the thin ether. 

And then she pointed where, alone and high, 

One little cloud sailed onward, like a lost 

And wandering bark, and fainter grew, and fainter, 

And soon was swallowed up in the blue depths. 

And when it sunk away, she turned again 

With sad despondency and tears to earth. 

Three long and weary months, — yet not a whisper 
Of stern reproach for that cold parting ! Then 
She sat no longer by her favorite fountain ! 
She was at rest forever. 



332 APPENDIX. 



THE VENETIAN GONDOLIER. 

Here rest the weary oar ! — soft airs 
Breathe out in the o'erarching sky ; 

And Night — sweet Night — serenely wears 
A smile of peace ; her noon is nigh. 

Where the tall fir in quiet stands, 

And waves, embracing the chaste shores, 

Move o'er sea-shells and bright sands, 
Is heard the sound of dipping oars. 

Swift o'er the wave the light bark springs, 
Love's midnight hour draws lingering near 

And list ! — his tuneful viol strings 
The young Venetian Gondolier. 

Lo ! on the silver-mirrored deep, 
On earth and her embosomed lakes, 

And where the silent rivers sweep, 

From the thin cloud fair moonlight breaks. 

Soft music breathes around, and dies 

On the calm bosom of the sea ; 
Whilst in her cell the novice sighs 

Her vespers to her rosary. 

At their dim altars bow fair forms, 

In tender charity for those 
That, helpless left to life's rude storms, 

Have never found this calm repose. 

The bell swings to its midnight chime, 
Relieved against the deep blue sky ! 

Haste ! — dip the oar again ! — 't is time 
To seek Genevra's balcony. 



APPENDIX. 333 



DIRGE OVER A NAMELESS GRAVE. 

By yon still river, where the wave 
Is winding slow at evening's close, 

The beech, upon a nameless grave, 
Its sadly- moving shadow throws. 

O'er the fair woods the snn looks down 
Upon the many twinkling leaves, 

And twilight's mellow shades are brown, 
Where darkly the green turf upheaves. 

The river glides in silence there, 
And hardly waves the sapling tree : 

Sweet flowers are springing, and the air 
Is full of balm, — but where is she ! 

They bade her wed a son of pride, 

And leave the hopes she cherished long ; 

She loved but one, — and would not hide 
A love which knew no wrong. 

And months went sadly on, and years ; 

And she was wasting day by day : 
At length she died ; and many tears 

Were shed, that she should pass away. 

Then came a gray old man, and knelt 
With bitter weeping by her tomb ; 

And others mourned for him, who felt 
That he had sealed a daughter's doom. 

The funeral train has long past on, 
And time wiped dry the father's tear ! 

Farewell, lost maiden ! there is one 

That mourns thee yet, — and he is here. 



334 APPENDIX. 



A SONG OF SAVOY, 

As the dim twilight shrouds 

The mountain's purple crest, 
And Summer's white and folded clouds 

Are glowing in the west, 
Loud shouts come up the rocky dell, 
And voices hail the evening bell. 

Faint is the goatherd's song, 
And sighing comes the breeze : 

The silent river sweeps along 
Amid its bending trees, 

And the full moon shines faintly there, 

And music fills the evening air. 

Beneath the waving firs 

The tinkling cymbals sound ; 

And as the wind the foliage stirs, 
I feel the dancers bound 

Where the green branches, arched above, 

Bend over this fair scene of love. 

And he is there, that sought 

My young heart long ago ! 
But he has left me, — though I thought 

He ne'er could leave me so. 
Ah ! lovers' vows, — how frail are they ! 
And his — were made but yesterday. 

Why comes he not 1 I call 

In tears upon him yet ; 
'T were better ne'er to love at all, 

Than love, and then forget ! 



APPENDIX. 335 



Why comes he not ? Alas ! I should 
Reclaim him still, if weeping could. 

But see, — he leaves the glade, 

And beckons me away : 
He conies to seek his mountain maid ; 

I cannot chide his stay. 
Glad sounds along the valley swell, 
And voices hail the evening bell. 



THE INDIAN HUNTER. 

When the summer harvest was gathered in, 

And the sheaf of the gleaner grew white and thin, 

And the ploughshare was in its furrow left, 

Where the stubble land had been lately cleft, 

An Indian hunter, with unstrung bow, 

Looked down where the valley lay stretched below. 

He was a stranger there, and all that day 
Had been out on the hills, a perilous way, 
But the foot- of the deer was far and fleet, 
And the wolf kept aloof from the hunter's feet. 
And bitter feelings passed o'er him then, 
As he stood by the populous haunts of men. 

The winds of Autumn came over the woods 
As the sun stole out from their solitudes ; 
The moss was white on the maple's trunk, 
And dead from its arms the pale vine shrunk, 
And ripened the mellow fruit hung, and red 
Were the tree's withered leaves round it shed. 



Sob APPENDIX. 

The foot of the reaper moved slow on the lawn, 
And the sickle cut down the yellow corn ; 
The mower snug loud by the meadow-side. 
Where the mists of evening were spreading wide, 
And the voice of the herdsman came up the lea, 
And the dance went round by the greenwood tree. 

Then the hunter turned away from that scene, 
"Where the home of his fathers once had been, - 
And heard by the distant and measured stroke 
That the woodman hewed down the giant oak, 
And burning thoughts flashed over his mind 
Of the white man's faith and love unkind. 

The moon of the harvest grew high and bright, 
As her golden horn pierced the cloud of white ; 
A footstep was heard in the rustling brake 
"Where the beech overshadowed the misty lake, 
And a mourning voice, and a plunge from shore, 
And the hunter was seen on the hills no more. 

When years had passed on, by that still lakeside 
The fisher looked down through the silver tide, 
And there, on the smooth, yellow sand displayed, 
A skeleton wasted and white was laid, 
And 't was seen, as the waters moved deep and slow, 
That the hand was still grasping a hunter's bow. 



APPENDIX. 



JECKOYVA. 

Um " hi " f ' tradition nay-, perished alone mi the 

»<«ntein Hrblch a nanM. Night overtook him v,. 

hunting among the cliffs, and I it beard of till after a 

time, wta hii half-decayed corpse irai found at. the I 

ave (alien. Mount J* 
White Hills. 

They made the warrior 3 be ide 

The dashing of bit native tide ; 
And there was mourning in the glen — 
The strong wai] of a thousand men — 

er him thus fallen in bis pride, 
Ere mi fc of age, or blight, or blast, 
Had o'er hit mighty ipirit p 

They made the warriort grave bene 
The bending of the wild i In/ wreath, 
When the 'lark hunter'* piercing 
Bad found that mountain rest on high, 

Where, scattered by the breath, 

Beneath the ragged cliff irere thrown 
The strong belt and the mouldering bone. 



Where was the warrior* foot, when fl 
The red sun on the mountain bua 
Where, jrhen the ultry noontime came 
On the green (rales with scorching flame, 

And made the woodlands faint with thi 
; 'J was irhere the wind is keen and loud, 
Arj 'l the \ the cloud. 

22 



338 APPENDIX. 

Where was the warrior's foot when night 
Veiled in thick cloud the mountain height ? 
None heard the loud and sudden crash, — 
None saw the fallen warrior dash 

Down the bare rock so high and white I 
But he that drooped not in the chase 
Made on the hills his burial-place. 

They found him there, when the long day 

Of cold desertion passed away, 

And traces on that barren cleft 

Of struggling hard with death were left, — 

Deep marks and footprints in the clay ! 
And they have laid this feathery helm 
By the dark river and green elm. 



THE SEA-DIVER. 

My way is on the bright blue sea, 
My sleep upon its rocking tide ; 

And many an eye has followed me 
Where billows clasp the worn seaside. 

My plumage bears the crimson blush, 
When ocean by the sea is kissed ; 

When fades the evening's purple flush, 
My dark wing cleaves the silver mist. 

Full many a fathom down beneath 
The bright arch of the splendid deep 



APPENDIX. 339 

My ear has heard the sea-shell breathe 
O'er living myriads in their sleep. 

They rested by the coral throne, 

And by the pearly diadem ; 
Where the pale sea-grape had o'ergrown 

The glorious dwellings made for them. 

At night upon my storm -drenched wing, 

I poised above a helniless bark, 
And soon I saw the shattered thing 

Had passed away and left no mark. 

And when the wind and storm were done, 

A ship, that had rode out the gale, 
Sunk down, without a signal gun, 

And none was left to tell the tale. 

I saw the pomp of day depart, 

The cloud resign its golden crown, 
When to the ocean's beating heart 

The sailor's wasted corse went down. 

Peace be to those whose graves are made 

Beneath the bright and silver sea I 
Peace, that their relics there were laid 

With no vain pride and pageantry ! 



340 APPENDIX. 



MUSINGS. 

I sat by my window one night, 

And watch'd how the stars grew high, 

And the earth and skies were a splendid sight 
To a sober and musing eye. 

From heaven the silver moon shone down 

With gentle and mellow ray, 
And beneath the crowded roofs of the town 

In broad light and shadow lay. 

A glory was on the silent sea, 

And mainland and island too, 
Till a haze came over the lowland lea, 

And shrouded that beautiful blue. 

Bright in the moon the autumn wood 

Its crimson scarf unrolled, 
And the trees like a splendid army stood 

In a panoply of gold ! 

I saw them waving their banners high, 
As their crests to the night wind bowed. 

And a distant sound on the air went by, 
Like the whispering of a crowd. 

Then I watched from my window how fast 

The lights all around me fled, 
As the wearied man to his slumber passed, 

And the sick one to his bed. 



APPENDIX. 841 



All faded save one, that burned 

With distant and steady Light ; 
But that, too, wenl out,- and I turned 

Where my own lamp wiUiin shone bright ! 

Thus, thought 1, our joys must die ; 

Yes, the brightest from earth ire win ; 
r J'jll each turns away, wit.li a sigh, 

'J'o the lamp that burns brightly within. 



SO. 



Where, from the eye of 'lay, 

The dark and silent river, 
Pursues through tangled woods a way 

O'er which the tall trees quiver, — 

The silver mitt, that breaks 
From out that woodland cover, 

Betrays the hidden path it takes, 
Aji'1 hangs the current over ! 

So oft the thoughts that burst 
From hidden springs of feeling, 

Like silent streams, unseen at first, 
Frouj our cold ho it are tealing. 

Bui '.')'>ii the clouds that rei] 

The eye of Love, when glowing, 
Betray the long unwhispered tale 

Of thought.:-; in darkness flowing I 



842 APPENDIX, 



TWO SONNETS FROM THE SPANISH OF FRAN 
CISCO DE MEDBANCM 

I. 

A:r: an: 1 Nature. 
Cbtti - humane. 

The works of human artifice soon tiro 

The curious eye : the fountain's sparkling rill, 

And gardens, when adorned by human skill, 
Reproach the feeble hand, the vain desire. 

But oh ! the free and wild magnificence 
Of Nature in her lavish hours doth steal, 

In admiration silent and intense. 
The soul of him who hath a soul to feel. 

The river moving on its ceaseless way. 
The verdant reach of meadows fair and green. 
And the blue hills that bound the sylvan scene, — 

These speak of grandeur, that defies decay, — 
Proclaim the Eternal Architect on high. 
Who stamps on all his works his own eternity. 

II. 

The Two Harvests. 
Yq vi romper aquestas veaas lianas, etc. 
But yesterday those few and hoary sheaves 
Waved in the golden harvest ; from the plain 
I saw the blade shoot upward, and the grain 

1 These sonnets appeared at the end of Mr. Longellow's first sepa- 
publieation. "Coplas de Den Jorge Manriqne, translated from 
the Spanish, with an Introductory Essay on the Moral and Devotional 
Poetry of Spain. By Henry W. Longfellow, Professor of Mod. Lane, 
and Lit. in Bowdoin College. " Boston: Allen and Tieknor, 1888. 
Pp. S5-S7. They have never since been reprinted. 



a j- j- /.// 1,1/.. 343 

A p 
Aim h palm .. 

.... 



344 APPENDIX. 

No. VI. 

[From "The Literary World/' Feb. 26, 1882.] 

A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF LONGFELLOW. 



I. 

The Published Works of Mr. Longfellow to Date. 

Elements of French Grammar. Translated from the French 

of C. P. L'Homond. [Boston ; 1830.] 
Origin and Progress of the French Language. North 

Amer. Rev., 32. 277. [April, 1831.] 
Defence of Poetry. North Am. Rev., 34. 56. [Jan., 1832.] 
History of the Italian Language and Dialects. North 

Am. Rev., 35. 283. [October, 1832.] 
Syllabus de la Grammaire Italienne. [Boston : 1832.] 
Cours de Langue Francaise. [Boston : 1832.] 
I. Le Ministre de Wakefield. 

II. Proverbes Dramatiques. 

Saggi de' Novellieri Italiani d' Ogni Secolo : Tratti da' 

piu celebri Scrittori, con brevi Notizie intorno alia Vita di 

ciascheduno. [Boston : 1832.] 
Spanish Devotional and Moral Poetry. North Am. Rev., 

34. 277. [April, 1832.] 
Coplas de Manrique. A Translation from the Spanish. 

[Boston : Allen & Ticknor, 1833.] 

Jorge Manrique was a Spanish poet of the fifteenth century. His 
Coplas is a funeral poem on the death of his father, extending to five 
hundred lines. Mr. Longfellow's volume is prefaced with the above 
essay on the moral and devotional poetry of Spain, from the N. A. 
Rev., 34. 277 ; and included in it are translations of Sonnets by Lope 
de Vega and others. 



APPENDIX. 845 

Spanish Language and Literature. North Am. Rev., 36. 

316. [April, 1833.] 
Old English Romances. North Am. Rev., 37. 374. [Oct., 

1833.J 
Outre-Mer ; a Pilgrimage beyond the Sea. 2. vols. [New 

York: Harpers, 1835.] 

A series of prose descriptions of foreign travel ; a sort of "Sketch- 
book." Reviewed by 0. W. Peabody in N. A. Rev., 39. 459-467; in 
Am. Month. Rev., 4. 157. Its publication was begun in numbers, by 
Hilliard, Gray, & Co. [Boston : 1833.] 

The Great Metropolis. North Am. Rev., 44. 461. [April, 

1837.] 

A lively review of a new work on Loudon. 

Hawthorne's Twice Told Tales. North Am. Rev., 45. 59. 

[July, 1837.] 
Tegner's Frithiofs Saga. North Am. Rev., 45. 149. 

[July, 1837.] 
Anglo-Saxon Literature. North Am. Rev., 47. 90. [July, 

1838.] 
Hyperion, a Romance. 2 vols. [New York : 1839.] 

This was the first of Mr. Longfellow's works written in his Cam- 
bridge home, — in the very Washington chamber, indeed, of the Crai- 
gie house, where lie still resides. Reviewed by C. C. Felton in N. A. 
Rev., 51. 145-161 ; in So. Lit. Mess., 5. 839. 

Voices of the Night. [Cambridge: 1839.] 

Mr. Longfellow's first volume of poems, containing u The Psalm of 
Life," " The Reaper and the Flowers," and six other poems, many of 
which were originally published in the Knickerbocker Magazine; also 
seven " Earlier Poems," as follows, all of which were composed before 
the author was nineteen : " An April Day," "Autumn," "Woods in 
Winter," "Hymn of the Moravian Nuns at Bethlehem," "Sunrise on 
the Hills," "The Spirit of Poetry," "The Burial of the Minnisink." 

Reviewed in N. A. Rev., 50. 266-269 ; Christ. Ex., 28. 242. 

The French Language in England. North Am. Rev., 51. 
285. [Oct., 1810.] 



346 APPENDIX. 

Ballads and Other Poems. [Cambridge : 1841.] 

Including " The Skeleton in Armor," "The Wreck of the Hes- 
perus," "The Village Blacksmith," "God's Acre," "To the River 
Charles," and "Excelsior." Reviewed by C. C. Felton in N. A. Rev., 
55. 114-144 ; by Poe, in his Literati. 

Poems on Slavery. [1842.] 

Composed during a return voyage from Europe, in 1842. 

The Spanish Student. A Play in Three Acts. [1843.] 

In this dramatic poem may be found the song entitled "Sere- 
nade," beginning, " Stars of the summer night." Reviewed in Lond. 
Ath., 1844, 8 ; in Irish Quart. Rev., June, 1855. 202 ; in Poe's Lite- 
rati ; in Whipple's Essays and Reviews, 1. 66. 

[Editor.] The Waie : a Collection of Poems. [Cambridge : 

1845.] 
[Editor.] The Poets and Poetry of Europe. [Philadel- 
phia: 1845.] 

A collection of selections, translated from a large number of Euro- 
pean poets, with introductions and biographical and critical sketches. 
Many of the translations are by Mr. Longfellow. A new edition, re- 
vised and eidarged, was published in 1S71. Reviewed by F. Bowen 
mN. A. Rev., 61. 199. 

The Belpry op Bruges, and Other Poems. [Boston: 1846.] 
[Editor.] The Estray: a Collection of Poems. [Boston: 

1847.] 
Evangeline : a Tale of Acadie. [Boston : 1847.] 
Kavanagh : a Tale. Prose. [Boston : 1849.] 
The Seaside and the Pireside. [Boston: 1850.] 

Contains "The Building of the Ship," " Resignation," and twenty- 
one other poems. 

The Golden Legend. [Boston: 1.851.] 

Reviewed in Blackwood, 5. 71 ; in Eclec, 4th s., 31. 455. 

The Song op Hiawatha. [Boston: 1855.] 
Reviewed by Rev. E. E. Hale in N. A. Rev., 82. 272. 



APPENDIX. 347 

The Courtship of Miles Standish. [Boston : 1858.] 
With " Birds of Passage, Flight the First," twenty-two poems, 

including " In the Churchyard at Cambridge " and " The Fiftieth 

Birthday of Agassiz." 

Reviewed by A. P. Peabody in N. A. Rev., 88. 275. 

Tales of a Wayside Inn. [Boston: 1863.] 

"First Day," with "Birds of Passage, Flight the Second," seven 
poems, including " The Children's Hour," and " The Cumberland." 

Elower-de-Ltjce. [Boston: 1867.] 
Twelve poems. 

New England Tragedies. [Boston : 1868.] 
I. John Endicott. 

II. Giles Cory of the Salem Farms. 
Reviewed by E. J. Cutler in N. A. Rev., 108. 669. 

Dante's Divine Comedy. A Translation. [Boston : 1867— 

70.] 

Three vols. I. Inferno. II. Purgatorio. ill. Paradiso. The same 
in 1 vol. 

Reviewed by Charles Eliot Norton in N. A. Rev., 105. 125 ; by 
George W. Greene in Atlantic M., 20. 188. 

The Divine Tragedy. [Boston : 1872.] 
Christus : a Mystery. [Boston : 1872.] 

Collecting, for the first time, into their consecutive unity : — 

I. The Divine Tragedy. 

II. The Golden Legend. 

III. The New England Tragedies. 

Three Books of Song. [Boston : 1872.] 

Contents: " Tales of a Wayside Inn, Second Day"; "Judas 
Maccabams (a dramatic poem in five acts) ; and "A Handful of Trans- 
lations," eleven in number. 

Aftermath. [Boston: 1874.] 

Contents: "Tales of a Wayside Inn, Third Day," and "Birds of 
Passage, Flight the Third." 



348 APPENDIX. 

The Masque op Pandora, and Other Poems. [Boston: 

1875.] 

Contents: " The Hanging of the Crane"; " M oritur i Salutamus," 
the Bowdoin College poem for the semi-centennial of the author's 
class of 1825 ; " Birds of Passage, Flight the Fourth " ; and "A Book 
of Sonnets," fourteen in all. (An operatic version of "The Masque 
of Pandora" was produced on the Boston stage in January, 1881.) 

[Editor.] Poems oe Places. 31 vols. [Boston : 1876- 

" 1879.] 

Keramos ; and Other Poems. [Boston : 1878.] 

Contents : A " Fifth Flight " of " Birds of Passage," sixteen in all, 
among which are the tribute to James Russell Lowell entitled " The 
Herons of Elmwood,' and "The White Czar" ; a second "Book of 
Sonnets," nineteen of them,. including "The Three Silences," the 
Literary World tribute to Whittier, "The Two Rivers,'' and "St. 
John's, Cambridge"; and fifteen translations, eight from Michael 
Angelo. 

Ultima Thtjle. [Boston: 1880.] 



II. 

Additional Notices of Mr. Longfellow. 

Arnatjd, Simon. La Legende Doree. [In Le Correspondant, 

10 Juillet, 1872.] 
Cobb, J. B. Miscellanies. [1858.] pp. 330-357. 
Curtis, G. W. Atlantic Monthly. 12. 269. 

Mr. Curtis's "Easy Chair" in Harper's Monthly contains notices 
of Mr. Longfellow and his writings, as follows: "The Dante," 35. 
257 ; " Reception in England," 37. 561 ; " New England Tragedies," 
38. 271 ; " The Divine Tragedy," 44. 616. There is also a general 
article on Longfellow in 1. 74. 

Cochin, Augustin. La Poesie en Amerique. [In Le Corre- 
spondent, 10 Juillet, 1872.] 



APPENDIX. 349 

Depret, Louis. Le Va-et-Vient. [Paris : n. d.] 
The same. La Poesie en Amerique. [Lille : 1876.] 
De Prins, A. Etudes Americaines. [Louvain : 1877.] 
Friswell, J. H. Modem Men of Letters. [1870.] pp. 

285-299. 
Gilfillan, George, Literary Portraits. Second Series. 
Palmer, Ray. Longfellow and his Works. Int. Rev., Nov., 

1875. 
Peck, G. W. Review of Mr. Longfellow's Evangeline. [New 

York: 1848.] 
P. T. C. Kalevala and Hiawatha. A Review. [185-.] pp. 

21. 
Whipple, E. P. Essays and Reviews. 1. 60-63. 



III. 

Translations of Mr. Longfellow's Works. 

ENGLISH. 

Noel. [A French poem by Longfellow in Flower '-de-Luce ■.] 
Tr. by J. E. Norcross. [Philadelphia : 1867. Large paper. 
50 copies printed.] 

GERMAN. 

Englische Gedichte aus Neuerer Zeit. Freiligrath, Ferdinand. 

. . . H. W. Longfellow . . . [Stuttgart uud Tubingen : 

1846.] 
Longfellow's Gedichte. Ubersetzt von Carl Bottger. [Dessau : 

1856.] 
Balladen tend Lieder von H. IF. Longfellow. Dent sell von A. 

R. Nielo. [Minister: 1857.] 
Longfellow's Gedichte. Von Friedrich Marx. [Hamburg and 

Leipzig: 1868.] 



350 APPENDIX. 

Longfellow 's aeltere unci neuere Gedichte in Auswald. Deutsch 

von Adolf Lauu. [Oldenburg: 1879.] 
Der Spanische Studente. Ubersetzt von Karl Bottger. [Des- 
sau: 1854.] 
The Same. Von Maria Helene Le Malstre. [Dresden : n. d.] 
The Same. Ubersetzt von Hafeli. [Leipzig : n. d.] 
Evangeline. Aus dem Englischen. [Hamburg : 1857.] 
The Same. Aus dem Englischen, von P. J. Belke. [Leipzig : 

1854.] 
The Same. Eine Erzahlung aus Acadien. Yon Eduard Nic- 

kles. [Karlsruhe: 1862.] 
The Same. Ubersetzt von Frank Siller. [Milwaukee: 1879.] 
The Same. Ubersetzt von Karl Knortz. [Leipzig : n. d.] 
Longfellow' 's Evangeline. Deutsch von Heinrich Viehoff. 

[Trier: 1869.] 
Die Goldene Legende. Deutsch von Karl Keck. [Wien : 

1859.] 
The Same. Ubersetzt von Elise Freifrau von Hohenhausen. 

[Leipzig: 1880.] 
Das Lied von Hiawatha. Deutsch von Adolph Bottger. [Leip- 
zig: 1856.] 
Der Sang von Hiaicatha. Ubersetzt von Ferdinand Freiligrath. 

[Stuttgart und Augsburg : 1857.] 
Hiaicatha . Ubertragen von Hermann Simon. [Leipzig: 

n. d.] 
Der Sang von Hiaicatha. Ubersetzt, eingeleitet nnd erklart 

von Karl Knortz. [Jena : 1872.] 
Miles StandisJis Brautwerbung. Aus dem Englischen von F. 

E. Baumgarten. [St. Louis : 1859.] 
Die Brautwerbung des Miles Standish. Ubersetzt von Karl 

Knortz. [Leipzig : 18 — .] 
Miles StandisJis Brautwerbung. Ubersetzt von F. Manefeld. 

[1867.] 



APPENDIX. 351 

Die Sage von R'onig Olaf. Ubersetzt von Ernst Rauscher. 

The Same. Ubersetzt von W. Hertzberg. 

Dorfschmid. Die Alte Uhr auf dcr Trcppe. Dos Schlaven 

Traum. Tr. by H. Schmick. Archiv.f. d. Stud. d. n. Spr., 

1858, 24. 214-217. 
Gedichte von II. W. L. Deutsch von Alexander Neidhardt. 

[Darmstadt: 1856.] 
Der Bau des Schifes. Tr. by Tli. Zcrmclo. Archiv.f. d. Stud. 

d. n. Spr., 1861, 30. 293-304. 
Hyperion. Deutsch von Adolpli Botfger. [Leipzig ■ 1856.] 
Bin Psalm des Lebcns, etc. Deutsch von Alexander Neidhardt. 

Archin. f. d. Stud. d. n. Spr., 1856, 29. 205-208. 
Die Gbllliche Tragodie. Ubersetzt von Karl Keck. [MS.] 
The Same. Ubersetzt von Hermann Simon. [MS.] 
Pandora. Ubersetzt von Isabella Schuchardt. [Hamburg: 

1878.] 
Morituri Salutamus. Ubersetzt von Dr. Ernst Schmidt. [Chi- 
cago : 1878.] 
The Hanging of the Crane. Das Kesselh'dngen. Ubersetzt 

von G. A. Ziindt. [n. d.] 
The Same. Das Einhangen des Kesselhakens, frei gearbeitet 

von Joh. Henry Becker, [n. d.] 

DTJTCn. 

Het Lied van Hiawatha. In het Nedcrdeutsch overgebragt 
door L. S. P. Meijboom. [Amsterdam : 1862.] 

Miles Standish. Nagezongcn door S. I. Van den Berg. 
Haarlem: 1861.] 

SWEDISH. 

Hyperion. Pa Svenska, af Gronlund. [1853.] 
Evangeline. Pa Svenska, af Alb. Lysander. [1^54.] 



352 APPENDIX. 

8 -. Ofversatt af Hjalmar Erdgren, [Goteborg: 1875,] 
Se . ■. Ofversatt af Philip Svenson. [Chioago : L875.] 
Hiawatha. Pa Svenska af Westberg. [18 

DANISH. 

Evangeline. Paa Norsk ved Sd. C. Knutsen. [Christiania : 

is; i,l 

Sangen om Hiawatha* Oversal af G. Bern. [Kjobenhavn: 
L860.] 

FRENCH. 

\geline i suivie des Voix de la Nuit. Par le Chevalier de 
Chatelain. [Jersey, London, Paris, Now York: L856.] 

The Same. Conte d'Acadie, Traduit par Charles Brunei. 
Prose. [Paris: L864.] 

The 8 Par Le*on Pamphile Le May. [Quebec: 1865.] 

La TAgende DorSe, el Poemes sur I'Esclavage. Traduits par 
Paul Blier el Edward Mac-Donnel. Prose. [Paris et Va- 
lenciennes : L85 I. ] 

Hiawatha. Traduit de I' Anglais par M. H. Goinont. [Nancy, 
Paris: L860.] 

P wines et Poesies. Traduits par X. Marmier. The Now Eng- 
land Tragedies, | Paris : 1879 1 

Hyperion et Kavanagh. Traduit de 1'Anglais; et precede* d'une 
Notice sur l'Auteur, 2 vols, [Paris et Bruxelles : I860.] 

The Pi Other Poems. Tr, bj Lucien de la 

Rive iu Essais de Traduction Poetique. [Paris: 1870.] 

ITALIAN. 

Alcune Poesie di Enrico W .'. 'low. Traduzione dalT Inglese 
di Angelo Messedaglia. [Padova: 1866.] 



A PPENDJX. 



Lo Students Spagnuolo Pi ' trica di 

dro BazzinL ftlilano : L871 
7^ />//"■ Tra< z // o 1 z 

/v- /*• "//" //'//'^' '/", 'I i ..','.. I ■• 

Bartolini, I z 60 J 
"Eoangelina* 'I dotta ' z 

'/'///• ,',V////" Tradnzione di Carlo Paccioli. [Verona J-, 
A// Leggeuda <F Oro, Tradotta da Ada I tin] 

[Parma: L867.] 
II Canto d? Hiawatha Tr. da L G« Bartolini Frammenti, 

/ L867 
2/?7u Standi h 'I rad izione dall I I tint 

[Padovaj L868 j 

i.i Bet Uoberto dt 8icilia, Ti by Dom Ped oIL, nr of 

Brazil, [Antograpb M 
ISoangelina, Tradncidap Lin Doria [Bio de Janeiro : 

L874 

7'//^ /;/////'• Poema de Henrique Longfellow 'I • 

llignel Street de Aj il d,] 

'///'; /)>/«</?. By J lavio Reimar, in the Aurora Brasileira, I 874 ; 

and by .!'/.<• de Goea J'ilho, in the Munmpio, I 

;r. 

Evangelina. Romance de la Acadia. 'I'm 

J -7 J.] 

POL] 

£&?fo Legenda. T ' Tr. into Polish bj 

P. Jerziei iki Wa z >7.] 



354 APPENDIX. 

Eoangelina. Tr. into Polish by Felix Jerzierski. [Warszawa : 

1857.] 
Duma o Hiawacie. The Song of Hiawatha. Tr. into Polish 

by Feliksa Jerzierskiego. [Warszawa : i860.] 

RUSSIAN AND OTHER LANGUAGES. 

Excelsior, and Other Poems, in Russian. [St. Petersburg: 

n. d.] 
Hiawatha, rendered into Latin, with abridgment. By Prancis 

William Newman. [London: 1862.] 
Excelsior. Tr. into Hebrew by Henry Gersoni. [n. d.] 
A Psalm of Life. In Marathi. By Mrs. H. I. Bruce. [Sa- 

tara: 1878.] 
The Same. In Chinese. By Jung Tagen. [Written on a 

fan.] 
The Same. In Sanscrit. By Elihu Burritt and his pupils. 



The sales of Longfellow's works up to 1857 are thus given 
by Allibone in his Dictionary of Authors : — 

Title. Date of Publication. Copies. 

Voices of the Night .... 1839 43,000 

Ballads and Other Poems . . 1841 40,000 

The Spanish Student . . . 1843 38,000 

The Belfry of Bruges . . . 1846 38,000 

Evangeline 1847 37,000 

The Seaside and the Fireside . 1849 30,000 

The Golden Legend .... 1851 17,000 

Hiawatha 1855 50,000 

Outre-Mer 1835 7,500 

Hyperion 1839 .- 14,550 

Kavanagh . 1849 10,500 

Total 325,550 



APPENDIX. 355 

Of Longfellow's collected works in four of the leading edi- 
tions, there have been printed to date as follows : — 

Edition. Date of Publication. Copies. 

Diamond 1867 110,000 

Red Line 1869 20,500 

Household 1873 57,500 

Library 1876 6,000 

Total 194,000 



University Press : John Wilson & Son, Cambridge, 






LRBJe'28 



